


Undercover Swing

by 2momsmakearight



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-06-08 15:44:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 54,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6861205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2momsmakearight/pseuds/2momsmakearight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder and Scully go undercover to find a heinous criminal..., who also happens to hosts sex parties</p><p>FINAL CHAPTER UPDATED!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Holly and Paul

**Author's Note:**

> amazing thanks, as always to my beta StorybyCorey. She is my rock.

Chapter 1: Holly and Paul

 

\----  
Undercover Residence  
Las Vegas, NV

Mulder put the key in the ignition and paused, turning his face towards his partner sitting idly beside him. “Are you sure about this, Scully?” he asked, his face slightly pained. She swallowed, her eyebrow arching, her eyes directed at her bare legs.

 

“It’s ‘Holly’, and…,” she sighed shakily, “It’s not my preference, but what are the alternatives? This guy needs to be caught.” She shifted in her seat nervously, tugging at her too-short skirt. Mulder reached across the console, tracing his knuckle down the side of her cheek.

 

“Anytime… anytime you feel uncomfortable, or want to go, you let me know,” he spoke gently. “They know we’re novices. It will be okay if we didn’t participate in everything,” he explained gently. He heard her shaky breath as she nodded in understanding, her eyes still plastered on her uncomfortably bare legs.

 

“Scully…?” he prompted when she remained quiet. She looked up, and cleared her throat. “My name is Holly, Paul,” she said, looking at him with a fixed stare.

 

“Well, I’m talking to Scully,” he retorted. “I need SCULLY to understand that her comfort comes first and foremost, and that the ONLY way we are going to solve this case is if we can trust each other, and communicate with each other. I need SCULLY to understand that she is my friend and partner, and I wouldn’t want to do anything that would make her uncomfortable, or breach the level of trust we have with one another,” he said, his voice echoing in the car.

 

She turned to him with glassy eyes and placed a hand on his thigh, squeezing gently. “And I need my partner to understand that we have roles to play, Mulder. I have to BE ‘Holly.’ I have to,” she whispered, her voice cracking. She shook her head, clearing her throat of the emotion clogging it. “I promise you that I will keep the lines of communication open. And I understand your concerns, Mulder. I do. But it’s easier for ME to do this, if I know I’m playing a role.”

 

“Because Dana Scully would never do this,” he said in statement rather than question.

 

She nodded simply. “I want to catch this motherfucker like you wouldn’t believe. What he’s accused of doing…,” she broke away, shaking her head in disgust. “That’s the ONLY reason I said yes to this ridiculous assignment,” she said gesturing to her skimpy attire.

 

He sat back in his seat and looked out of the front windshield, his hand tapping on the steering wheel. The lack of air flow throughout the cabin was stifling, and she felt a fine layer of sweat forming on her freshly washed skin.

 

“So, Holly and Paul, huh?” he asked.

 

She smiled crookedly into her lap, licking her lips. “I told you I got to pick the names the next time we went undercover.”

 

He nodded his head and snorted. “Why ‘Holly’ and ‘Paul’?” he asked.

 

She shrugged, ducking her chin. “Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” she said simply.

 

“Ahhh,” he nodded in understanding. “Well, I guess it’s better than Ishmael, or Pip, or Stubb from your beloved Moby Dick,” he said, smiling.

 

She smiled gently, but he could still sense her nervousness. 

 

He reached over and took her hand from her lap. “You know I would rather die than hurt you…, or ruin our friendship, right?” he said gently.

 

She nodded, squeezing his hand. “I know.”

 

He gave her hand one final squeeze before he let it fall to her lap, turning the key in the ignition and driving away from their apartment.

\---

 

Mulder pulled the car along the sidewalk and put it in park. Scully sat silent, looking around the quiet street. Suburban middle-class homes lined the block with lush, green lawns adorning the front. Flags on porches blew in the wind, and minivans parked in driveways.

 

She shook her head, a look of disgust on her face. “God, Mulder,” she sighed. “This street. It’s so…”

 

“Normal, I know,” he said, shocked as well. “But the worst predators tend to hide in plain sight,” he said, opening his door and getting out.

 

She swung her legs from her side, adjusting her short skirt, pulling it as far down her thighs as it would go, which, to Mulder’s delight, wasn’t more than three inches past the curve of her ass.

 

She stood with her back pressed against her closed door, carefully regarding the house in front of her, her fingers still clenched in the handle of the car. Mulder stepped in front of her, placing his hands on her hips, bending down to look into her eyes (though he didn’t have to bend far with the four inch heels she was wearing).

 

“Hey…,” he said softly, and her gaze darted from the house to meet his gentle hazel eyes. Her mouth twitched in a small smile.

 

“Take a deep breath…,” he said, his thumbs stroking her hip bones. It was a gesture meant to be soothing, but instead, it made the nerves in her belly flutter wildly. Mulder brought his hand to her face, sweeping the windblown strands from her cheek.

 

“Remember the goal,” he said quietly. “We can’t bring wires or cameras inside – they’re going to search us when we enter. We need proof that he’s drugging his guests with the intent to rape them later.”  
She looked at him, pursing her lips. “Don’t forget the underage prostitutes,” she said, swallowing thickly, disdain written across her features.

 

He cupped her cheeks. “Look at me,” he said, his hands warm against her face. “Let’s just go inside…, we’ll take one step at a time,” he said slowly.

 

He dropped his hands from her face, and moved them back to her hips, reaching behind her to remove her hands from the handle on the door. His chest brushed against her breasts, prominent in a black push up bra and thin, white tank top. “You’ve got to let go of the car first,” he said grinning.

 

She smiled and dropped her hands, reaching for his. With a shaky breath, she stepped towards the house.

 

After a few steps, she stopped abruptly. “Wait,” she said, her eyes wide.

 

He turned back, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

 

She snorted, looking to the sky for courage, her cheeks coloring. “I think… uhm…,” her voice trembled with nerves, “Kiss me,” she said softly.

 

He stepped closer. “Excuse me?”

 

She looked up at him, her eyes serious. “Well, I just….,” she fumbled, nervous, “Kiss me. We’re supposed to be a married couple. These parties are…, well, we both know what we’re going to be walking into, and I just think maybe you need to kiss me first,” she rushed, “just so we’re not caught off guard or anything.”

 

He smiled uncomfortably, shifting his feet. “I uh…” he stammered, clearing his throat.

 

She continued, “If we want to be believable, we need to look like an affectionate, sexual, married couple,” she paused, gathering her courage, “I’m not asking you to fuck me, Mulder” she finished quietly. 

 

Mulder growled low in his throat, her words shooting straight to his cock. “But I do think you need to kiss me…”

 

They stood in awkward silence for a couple moments, color high on both of their cheeks. She shifted slightly on her feet, and Mulder lifted his eyes to her face, watching as she bit her lip in concentration.

 

“It’s not like… It’s not like you haven’t kissed me before,” she said softly, fiddling with the strap of her handbag. Her hands trembled, but if Mulder noticed her anxiety, he didn’t let on.

 

His stomach tingled at the memory of his mouth against hers on New Year’s Eve. He licked his lips, remembering the feel of her soft lips on his.

 

As they stared at each other, he couldn’t help but take in her appearance. Her fiery red hair was softly curled around her face, and her make-up was dramatic and smoky. Her white tank top left little to the imagination as the black bra bled through, the peaks of her nipples visible in the cool breeze outside the house. Her legs looked longer than ever in her ‘come fuck me heels’ and short skirt. All in all, she looked exactly how she was supposed to look – highly fuckable.

 

His cock twitched. ‘This case is going to be unbearable,’ he thought.

 

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance in order to mask his desire. “I suppose you’re right,” he said, moving towards her. She nodded in agreement, staring at her shoes, desperately trying to avoid his eyes.

 

He closed the distance between them with two steps, and brought his hands to her cheeks. She lifted her chin up to his gaze and felt her cheeks burn when she saw the raw intensity behind his eyes. The corner of his mouth lifted upwards, and he slowly brought his lips down, gently pressing into her. Chaste, respectful… Everything Dana Scully did not want in a kiss from Mulder, but was too embarrassed to say. 

 

He pulled away, lingering above her mouth for a moment, waiting, testing the boundaries of how far he could go. His cock wanted him to taste the vast expanse of her neck and chest, running his tongue between her breasts. His heart wanted him to wrap her in his arms and take her as far away from this case as humanly possible. His brain wanted…, well, his brain wasn’t working in that moment, he realized.

 

He lowered his face to her again, opening his mouth over her lips. He shuddered when her tongue darted out to stroke his lips. His cock won. He growled into her mouth, and he pushed her back against the car door, losing himself in the feeling. She grunted as her back hit the car, her hands clutching at his black shirt, pulling him closer to her body.

 

She moaned into his mouth as he pressed his body along hers, his erection prominent against her belly. His deep sigh sent a shooting wave of warmth to her core, her clit throbbing, drenching what little underwear she had on.

 

His teeth tugged at her lip as he pulled his face back. She opened her eyes slowly, and her breathing returned to normal. Arousal flared in his eyes, and the evidence of his desire was still pressing into her leg. He searched her eyes briefly before moving away. 

 

“You’ll tell me if anything is uncomfortable, right?” he asked softly, his eyes intent and focused.

 

Her belly lurched nervously. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. How was she supposed to maintain her composure when he’d just kissed her like that, like a lover? But wasn’t that what she had asked him to do?

 

She was already confused, and the case hadn’t even begun. She looked at him with wide eyes, but before she could answer, their hostess opened the front door. 

 

“Save all that action for inside, you two!!” she called from the front door, her bleached blonde hair teased and curled, large breasts spilling from the tight pink spandex dress fitted around her curvy frame.

 

Mulder looked at Scully, and her cheeks blushed traitorously.

 

“Oohhh, have we got some newbies?” the woman laughed heartily. “That’s okay… There’s plenty inside to loosen you up… in more ways than one,” she said, winking to the both of them. They gave each other knowing looks, and smiled politely at their hostess.

 

“Ready to party, Holly?” he asked, his hand guiding her on the small of her back through the front entry of the house.

 

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Paul,” she replied, adjusting her tank top, and smoothing her hair.

\---

 

A week ago, their lives had been normal – normal for them, at least. Short of cases to work on since the demise of the Syndicate less than a year prior, they’d been asked to assist Violent Crimes on an undercover assignment to attain proof of illegal activities of one Harold Moore, accused of rape and solicitation of underage prostitutes, amongst other smaller drug charges. Scully found the crimes disgusting and reprehensible. Preying on the vulnerabilities of girls who should still be playing with dolls, not to mention guests who thought they could trust him, Harold was the worst kind of criminal.

It was no shock to her when Skinner asked them to assist VCS, with Scully’s background in pathology and Mulder’s legendary profiling abilities. What shocked her, was HOW Skinner wanted them to assist. 

She remembers what he said so clearly. “Look, Agents, the truth of the matter is that we don’t have a male/female partnership who could pass for a married couple in the same…capacity…the way you two can.” 

“Agents Nielson and Swiker have been together longer than we have, sir,” Mulder said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Clearly, the idea of being married to her again did not sit well. She swallowed thickly, her heart sinking. 

Skinner cleared his throat and sat forward in his seat, avoiding the eyes of the two younger agents. “This case involves a need for a certain…physical…,” he trailed off, swirling his hand in the air. 

“Sir?” Scully chimed in, hoping he would expand his thoughts. What exactly were they expected to do?

Skinner took a deep breath, and began again. “You two are the best agents we can put on the case. Hands down. Your track record for solving cases, not to mention the… bond… between the two of you is why your partnership was considered in the first place. ” 

He rubbed his shiny head and sighed. “The Director is feeling a lot of pressure to finish this case, especially considering the new human trafficking allegations he wants to bring forward. You two…,” he paused, shaking his head as he stared at the two agents. 

“Trust me, you two weren’t the only partnership considered. We had to take into account a lot of factors, not the least of which is believability and youth. Agents Nielson and Swiker are both in their fifties and happily married to other people. These are SEX parties, agents.” 

Scully’s eyebrows rose into her hairline. This was the first she had heard of THAT detail. Mulder tugged on his tie, and she looked at him side-ways, pulling her lip between her teeth as her heart beat rapidly in her chest. Noticing their discomfort, he paused, swallowing thickly before he cleared his throat. Skinner sat taller in his seat, pushing his chest out, regaining some composure. 

“Look, I don’t care what happens behind closed doors… Your job is to nail this guy. And considering all the other agents we have, you two are the only ones who are smart enough, attractive enough, AND single enough.” 

Scully blinked rapidly, her mind drawing a blank. “What…? Uhm… Sex parties, sir?” she squeaked, wincing as she heard the tone of her voice. 

Scully felt her cheeks redden as Skinner gave them the details of their case. The assignment was simple: they would pose as a married couple, infiltrating Harold’s circle of friends, in order to witness illegal activity and aide in his capture. The catch: Harold and his wife Alisha were some of Las Vegas’ most well-known hosts of sex parties for swinging couples.

Mulder and Scully were to go undercover as a couple interested in the swinging lifestyle.

Sex parties.

With Mulder.

\---  
(End of Chapter 1)


	2. Kiss, Nipple

Chapter 2: “Kiss…Nipple”

Dana Scully went into this case the same way that she went into most things in her life – after reading and researching everything she could get her hands on. She’d spent the better part of that week doing all she could. But, after countless hours of pink-cheek-inducing web searches, she realized, much to her dismay, that she had no idea what to expect. All parties were different. Some had themes, some had rules. Some had cover charges, or BYOB stipulations. She was reassured to read that couples were not required to participate in all cases. Some simply enjoyed the voyeuristic approach to the lifestyle, later using it to heighten their own sexual experience with their partners.

With their partners…

For the four-hundredth and fifty second time that week, Dana Scully questioned her resolve.

\---

Mulder and Scully (now Paul and Holly, respectively) entered the large home of their suspect, hand in hand. Scully could feel her palms nervously sweating. As if he could read her mind, Mulder squeezed her hand gently, abating some of her fears. She wondered if he could feel her hands trembling, as well. 

Her lips still burned from the kiss they shared by the car, tingling with warmth. Like the feeling of a phantom limb, she licked her bottom lip, still remembering the way his full lips felt on hers. She sighed shakily, and he squeezed her hand again, pulling them further into the home where a registration table sat in a small sitting room near the main entry. 

“Howdy!” a cheerful voice registered as the couple walked into the small sitting room. 

“Names?”

Scully looked to Mulder, and he stepped forward. “Holly and Paul,” Mulder said. The young girl shifted in her seat, chewing her gum noisily, then checked down the list and crossed off their names.

“Alrighty, that’ll be $100 for the cover.” Mulder nodded and reached into his pocket. He handed her the money and she wrote him a small receipt.

“Okay,” she said, handing them a piece of paper. “Here’s the contract for the party this evening.”

Mulder and Scully both stepped forward and read off the paper as the girl recited the rules and conditions to the event.

“Your cover charge entitles you to unlimited food and beverage, though if you are particularly inebriated you will be asked to leave. No photography or video recording devices are allowed. Rooms are private, and for private parties only. Bathrooms are stocked with all necessary cleaning and hygiene materials. Condoms are located in bowls throughout the house and they are mandatory, regardless of partner. If you agree to those terms, please sign below,” she finished, sitting back in her chair awaiting their response.

Scully shot Mulder a sidewise glance, and scribbled her fake name along the signature line. Mulder followed suit.

“Have fun!” the girl smiled, taking their sheet and placing it into a filing bin.

Mulder grabbed Scully’s hand, holding it inside his larger one. They walked down the hallway, leading to a larger great room where couples mingled about, holding drinks, talking, laughing. It looked no different than any other party. The large windows against the back of the house fed beautifully to the opulent backyard, complete with rock features, pool and large Jacuzzi. All in all, it looked incredibly normal.

Mulder squeezed her hand reassuringly, and she released the breath she was unaware of holding. “Not too bad, huh?” he whispered, standing in front of her to scope out the scene.

She looked over his shoulder and saw a few people eyeing them, sizing them up. She wondered if this was how cattle felt at auction. “What’s the plan, Paul?” she asked, looking up at him.

He brought his hands to her shoulders, his thumbs stroking along her bra strap. “I’m not quite sure,” he said looking at her. He met the gaze of a brunette over Scully’s shoulder, and smiled politely at her.

Scully couldn’t help but turn around and look at the woman in question. The brunette winked at Scully, snuggling in closer to her male partner. Scully turned back to meet his eyes.

“Okay, here’s how this is going to go,” she said, feeling a little edgy and territorial all of a sudden. “I’m going to get a drink and mingle. You’re going to do the same. We are going to keep our eyes open, and make mental notes of anything out of place,” she whispered, stepping close to him. Her nose was practically pressed against the skin of his neck and she fought the jolts of nerves in her belly as the clean scent of his aftershave overwhelmed her senses.

“We are Paul and Holly, tonight, an amateur couple looking into the swinging lifestyle,” she said. She looked up at his downturned face, and her heart lurched into her throat. Perfect time to start playing the part, she thought. She leaned up on her toes, quickly brushing her lips across his, then tugged his hand towards the bar.

“Want anything?” she asked, standing in front of the punch bowl. He turned to her, his mouth agape. His heart beat rapidly inside his chest, constricting his vocal cords. Swallowing thickly, he willed his cock to stop twitching inside his jeans. Dangerous question, Scully. There were so many things he wanted.

He grinned mischievously as he remembered their roles. “Yeah, bring me a beer, BABE,” he said, then walked to the couch. She arched an eyebrow and rolled her eyes.

After retrieving the beer, she grabbed a cup and began to ladle the contents from the punch bowl into the red cup.

“I wouldn’t drink the punch if I were you,” a woman’s voice said behind her.

Scully turned around and looked at the woman in question. Undoubtedly beautiful and voluptuous, she stood taller than Scully, wearing a black sleeveless blouse and skin- tight jeans. Her brown hair was long and curled, and her green eyes bright and vibrant.

“Why?” Scully asked, looking at the punch bowl with suspicion.

“It’s strong. I don’t know how they make it, but it ah…,” the woman smiled and scratched her head, gesturing to the red liquid. “It’ll knock you on your ass before you know what hit you.”

Scully’s eyebrows shot to her forehead and she put the red cup back on the table. Eyeing the punch with an investigative eye, she made a mental note to figure out a way to test the contents. Was this how Harold was drugging his guests, through the punch?

“What’s in it?” Scully asked, tilting her chin to the side to look at the red liquid.

“I’m not sure, exactly. A LOT of alcohol, though. I drank it the first time we came, and I don’t remember much after,” she said. Scully’s eyebrows rose to her forehead.

“You don’t remember?”

The other woman shrugged, “Yeah, but that’s not out of the ordinary for me if I drink too much. But you’re smaller than I am, so I would definitely steer clear.”

Scully’s eyes narrowed, watching the woman closely. “What would you recommend then?” she asked.

The taller woman stepped into Scully’s space and reached behind her, her breasts grazing Scully’s shoulder. “I’d stick to anything you know, or have the ingredients to,” she said softly, pouring vodka into a red cup. “I’m Kathy, by the way,” she said, smiling at the redhead as she added cranberry juice to the cocktail.

Scully smiled, and watched her mix the drink with intrigue. “I’m Holly,” Scully said. “My uh… my husband and I are new,” she said, shifting her feet, her discomfort evident. 

“Ooooh, fresh bait,” Kathy joked, her voice dropping an octave. Scully’s eyes grew, and Kathy nudged her with her shoulder, smiling. She swirled her cocktail, mixing the juice and alcohol together before she handed it to Scully.

“I’m only teasing, don’t worry,” Kathy said smiling. “My husband…,” she turned her head, searching the room for her partner, pointing to the tall black man sitting next to Mulder. “My husband and I were new to this last year. Don’t be scared,” she smiled, cupping the smaller woman’s arm. “I could tell you guys were new when you walked in. All the newbies have that ‘deer in the headlights’ look to them the first time,” she said, as she brought her own drink to her lips.

Kathy’s husband came up behind her and kissed the top of her head. Scully had to bend her neck back all the way to look at him. The man must have been 6’6, and his large frame almost doubled that of his smaller wife.

“Holly, this is my husband Rod,” Kathy said, and Rod put his hand out for Scully to take. His skin was dark as night compared to her pale complexion, and his hand engulfed hers, bringing it to his mouth where he placed a chaste kiss on her knuckles. Scully blushed, ducking her chin as she smiled kindly. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said softly.

Mulder came up beside Scully, placing his hand at the small of her back, almost possessively. The tension in his jaw was clear and Scully wondered if she saw Rod kiss her hand.

“Making friends, Holly?” he asked, smiling down at his partner. She smiled and leaned back into his hand. Mulder stepped closer to her, wrapping his arm around her waist as he pulled her to his side. 

“This is Kathy and Rod,” Scully said, gesturing to the couple. “Kathy saved me from the punch,” she said, looking up at Mulder. His eyebrows rose in acknowledgement.

“First party?” Rod asked, wrapping his large arms around his wife.

Mulder’s thumb drew circles against Scully’s hip, and her sensitive skin twitched under his hand. “That obvious?” he asked, smiling.

Rod shook his head. “No, man. We’ve all been there. But Harold throws the best parties,” he said.

Mulder looked down at Scully. “Yeah, he’s the one that invited us, but strangely enough we’ve never met him. Sort of a friend of a friend thing,” he laughed.

Kathy shook her head. “Oh, you won’t,” she said. “He issues all the invites, but he never makes an appearance at the parties. His wife, little Miss Pink Spandex over there…,” she said, gesturing to Alisha, now outside talking with a small group, “She runs the parties. Harold is…,” Kathy broke off, her eyes searching for the right word.

“Harold likes to watch,” Rod finished.

Scully’s eyebrows shot up, “Watch?”

“Yeah, there are cameras everywhere… He just likes to…watch,” Kathy said, a small smile appearing on her lips.

Scully laughed nervously, and Mulder tugged her closer to his side. “That doesn’t make me less nervous at all,” she said quietly, crossing her arms in front of her.

“I don’t remember being notified that cameras were used on the property,” Mulder said, his smile forced.

Kathy and Rod gave each other knowing looks. “Oh, it’s there. In the fine print. Something about ‘property owner retains the right to monitor guests at all times’,” Kathy said, stroking her husband’s arms.

Mulder looked down at Scully, reassuring her through his eye contact. 

“You’re nervous, aren’t you?” Kathy asked, and Scully looked at her over the top of her cup.

She ducked her chin. “A little,” she said softly, her eyebrow arching. Mulder tugged her hip closer to him and his thumb stroked her side.

“Bullshit,” Kathy said, a small smile appearing on her lips. Her green eyes twinkled at the ice blue depths of Scully’s.

“What?” Scully asked, both taken aback by her words, and worried that they’d potentially been caught.

“You’re not ‘a little’ scared. You’re terrified,” she said, moving from her husband’s arms and stepping into Scully’s space. With heels on, Kathy was only a few inches shorter than Mulder, and she gave him a small wink before she bent down to look Scully in the eye. 

“You’re terrified…,” she began again, her voice soft in Scully’s ear. “But there’s also a part of you that’s excited, am I right?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Scully said, her voice shaky, as she attempted to feign bravery.

Kathy met her eyes full-on, and Scully felt an odd burning in her lower belly. Anticipation, fear, trepidation… She couldn’t put her finger on it. 

“Sure you do,” Kathy said, smiling softly. “You’re scared because this is new, but you’re excited because you know what’s in store,” she said.

Mulder sucked in a breath and watched the interaction in front of him. Their bodies were practically touching, the staggered rise and fall of their breasts mesmerizing to watch. His grip tightened around Scully’s waist, and he watched her eyes flutter. Was this turning her on, he wondered? It was hot to watch, that’s for damn sure.

Kathy bent her head and spoke in Scully’s ear. Mulder shot a glance over to Rod, who was watching the interaction with a smirk, his arms crossed in front of him. He couldn’t hear what Kathy was saying to her, but he stepped closer to Scully, pressing into her body. Kathy’s fingers brushed lightly over Mulder’s hand on Scully’s hip, and he sucked in a small breath at the contact. His cock twitched in his tight jeans, and he kicked his leg out lightly to adjust it.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” Kathy said softly, her thumbs light on Scully’s skin. “It’s hard to imagine your husband’s hands on anyone’s body but your own. Hard to imagine him giving another woman the same pleasure he gives you when he sucks on your clit…” Kathy practically purred in Scully’s ear, and Scully couldn’t help the small shiver that coursed through her, her clit throbbing. The image of Mulder’s mouth between her legs wasn’t new to her, but the thought of him doing it to another woman while she watched was almost too much to bear. How could people stand the jealousy?

Scully sucked in a breath and swallowed thickly, running her tongue along her bottom lip. “Trust me,” Kathy said, pulling back from Scully, looking at the both of them, “It’s unbelievably hot to watch your partner fuck someone else, to see what they look like when they come… Or, when they make someone else come.” Kathy stepped back and wrapped her arms around her husband.

Mulder chuckled uncomfortably, looking down at his shoes as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. Sure, Mulder had fantasized about Scully. He had even fantasized about Scully having sex. But he had never fantasized about Scully having sex with someone else, and the thought of it made his heart want to explode. He closed his eyes, shaking his head lightly to focus.

“We ah…,” he said, licking his lips and glancing down at Scully, “We haven’t really discussed specifics.”

Rod chuckled at Mulder. “Paul, let me tell you, to see someone fucking your wife takes a little getting used to,” he said, and Mulder nodded, grateful for the validation.

“But, when she looks over at you, and gives you that smile and then BAM, comes all over that dude’s cock, it’s pretty fucking spectacular.”

Scully’s eyebrows shot to her forehead and she breathed slowly through her mouth, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. Mulder felt nauseous and aroused, his cock hardening even further. In the back of his mind, he could see Scully’s body, forcibly moving up and down against the mattress, her beautiful breasts bouncing with each thrust as a faceless man pounded within her. Her piercing blue eyes locked on his, heavy and hooded, her mouth and face contorted in blissful agony as she arched off the bed when the power of her orgasm washed through her. He couldn’t deny how fucking hot and arousing the image was, but the idea of it made his heart ache. He pulled her in front of him, wrapping his arms around her, suddenly desperate to feel her close. 

His arms rested below her breasts, and she threaded her fingers between his, rolling his gold wedding band between her thumb and index finger.

He bent and whispered in her ear, “You okay?” He placed a soft kiss below her ear. Her eyes fluttered slightly and she licked her lips, trying to keep her composure.

She nodded, and ran her hands along the soft hairs of his forearms. He pressed his mouth into her shoulder, his breath hot on her skin. Leaning back against the counter, he brought her with him, and she arched her eyebrow when her back came in contact with his erection. No wonder he’d pulled her in front of him. The evidence of her own arousal was wet between her legs, and she was thankful that women could hide their desire so much more easily than men.

Kathy stepped out of her husband’s embrace and took Scully’s arm. Mulder’s eyebrow shot up as she pulled Scully from his grip, linking their arms. “Come on, Holly… Let’s get a good spot before the games begin,” Kathy said, taking Scully’s arm and leading her from the kitchen.

Scully nervously reached back for Mulder’s hand, and he took it with a smile, reassuring her of his presence. Always there. Always. 

“What games?” Scully inquired as they approached the couch. Rod’s large frame took up an entire cushion and Kathy sat draped on his lap. Mulder picked a spot next to Rod while Scully sat beside him, his arm draped around her shoulder. She remembered doing this on their last undercover assignment in Arcadia Falls. But his behavior unnerved her then, his forced yuppie routine, complete with Lacoste polos and a fucking sweater tied around his neck. But now, she felt comfortable in his embrace, safe, especially considering the uncomfortable nature of their assignment. Funny how a year could change things…

Kathy gestured towards Alisha who was in the kitchen mixing some additional punch in the bowl. “Okay, so the first night of the series, Alisha will always start off with some fun, sexy games,” she began, smiling excitedly.

Scully cocked her head to the side, “Wait, now I’m even more confused. Series?”

Rod placed his hand on his wife’s thigh and shifted on the couch, rising Kathy’s body along with his. “Yeah, each party is part of a ‘series’. Three parties to each series. The first party is generally just sexy games…, maybe a little swimming…, or anything additional any couples want to participate in. As the series progresses, so does the participation,” he said smiling, a deep chuckle emitting from his chest. He nudged Mulder in the arm.

“Trust me, the last party in the series is where the fun is to be had. Magic room, and all,” he said softly, turning to face his wife. His hand trailed up her thigh as he pulled her face down to meet his mouth. They kissed deeply, and Mulder and Scully found themselves looking at anything but the display beside them.

The broke apart, and Kathy continued. “Each party is also a level of sorts… I’m surprised Harold didn’t mention this when he invited you,” Kathy said, shaking her head at their surprised expressions. “Anyway,” she said dismissively, “That’s why Harold likes to watch. He watches each couple. He takes notes. At the end of the night, you’ll find out if you’re invited to the next party. If he likes what he sees, you’re in. And trust me, you WANT to be invited back,” she smiled.

“The magic room is the best. It’s always the last night of the series, and that’s when Harold brings in all these beautiful women, and there’s tons of booze and everyone just winds up fucking. Let’s be real,” she laughed.

Mulder looked at Scully with knowing glances. ‘Beautiful women’ meant ‘underage prostitutes’. Scully felt a chill run down her spine when she remembered what the crime reports had said. Underage, homeless, abused and traumatized young women recounting their tales of sexual assault, abuse, and forced drug use after attending Harold’s parties, now made all the more complicated by a potential international sex trading operation. They HAD to do whatever it took to get to the third party, to save these girls, if nothing else. 

But, if what Kathy and Rod were saying was true, it would mean a high degree of intimate contact, sexual contact. Much more than the kiss they had shared earlier. Scully didn’t know if the nervous pit in her belly was related to the dark undertones of the case, or the fact that she and Mulder would like have to perform…, all while being filmed, no less. 

“So what do we have to do to get invited back?” Mulder asked.

Kathy and Rod smiled at each other. “Participate. That’s the trick. The couples who never get invites back are timid or choose not to play. And that’s fine,” she said, holding out her hand in defense. “It’s absolutely okay if someone doesn’t want to play. But you won’t be invited back,” she explained.

“You mentioned games,” Scully said, her voice heavy. She cleared her throat.

Kathy shrugged, “It differs. Sometimes it’s card games with sexual questions. Sometimes truth or dare. The dice game is really fun, though.”

Scully closed her eyes. “Explain the dice game,” she winced, afraid to hear what it entailed.

Kathy shifted on her husband’s lap, excitedly gesturing with her hands. “Okay, so basically it’s two large dice that you roll. One side has a verb, and the other side has a noun. But the noun is a body part, and of course the verb –“

“Is something sexual,” Mulder answered. Scully shot him a nervous glance.

“Ding, ding! The newbie is learning fast. Look at you,” she said leaning over and rubbing his arm. Scully eyed the interaction curiously, and leaned forward to break it. “Okay, so…, if I understand this correctly, one dice might say ‘kiss’… And the other dice might say…,” she spun her wrist around searching for a word.

“Nipple,” Rod interjected, and Mulder coughed. Scully sat back in the seat, and took a deep breath.

“You okay, Holly?” Rod asked, and Mulder looked over at his partner who was simultaneously pale and pink-cheeked.

She nodded, and clasped her hands in her lap to prevent anyone from seeing them shake.

“I need another drink,” Scully said as she stood up, walking back into the kitchen.

Rod nodded his chin in Scully’s direction, noticing Mulder’s worried gaze. “She’ll be fine, man. Everyone gets nervous. We’re all just here for a good time,” Rod explained. Mulder nodded.

“Plus,” Rod went on to add, “Your wife is smokin’ hot. She’s got nothing to worry about,” he smiled, wiggling his eyebrows at the other man. Mulder’s eyes narrowed briefly at the larger man’s suggestion.   
He soon recovered though, and tilted his head towards the kitchen.

“I should…ah…,” he trailed off, with a nudge of his head in Scully’s direction. Rod nodded understandably.

He met Scully in the kitchen, where he watched her pour a hefty amount of vodka into her glass. His eyebrow rose higher with each gurgle of the vodka bottle.

“Talk to me, Holly,” he said, leaning on the bar to meet her eyes. “How are you feeling about these games?” he asked, wincing as he watched her toss back a shot of straight vodka.

She swallowed, and looked him straight in the eye. “Fine, after I get another drink or two in me.”

He placed his hand on hers. “Holly…,” he began, her name so soft on his lips that she could almost hear her real name. “Come here,” he said, taking her hand and leading them into the hallway, outside the bathroom.

He pushed her back against the wall and braced his hands on her shoulders, bending down to meet her eyes. “Mul…, um, Paul, I’m fine. Really. I just have to wrap my head around it, is all,” she explained softly.

He placed a finger on her lips, and she met his eyes. He leaned in closely so he could whisper. “Cameras… He’s watching.” She nodded in understanding.

He looked her in the eyes. “We don’t have to play. We can go home right now,” he said, and she shook her head.

“No. It’s fine. I want to play,” she said, her chin lifting in defiance.

He licked his lips, pushing himself from her shoulders, standing squarely in front of her.

“Okay,” he said slowly, knowing she wasn’t being entirely truthful. “What should the rules be?”

“Rules?” she asked, arching her eyebrow.

“Yeah, Holly, rules. What if I roll those dice and they say ‘kiss, nipple’. Whose nipple am I going to kiss?” he said softly, stepping forward into her space, glancing briefly at the camera at the end of the hall. Might as well make it a show.

She felt the heat radiating from his body, and her breathing quickened, her chest rising and falling. She noticed his eyes dart to the ample cleavage bared in her tank top, and she involuntarily pushed her chest out, her nipples tightening against their encasements.

“Holly?” he asked softly. His hands came to rest on either side of her head against the wall. She felt her skin flush, but whether from alcohol or his proximity she wasn’t sure. He leaned down until his face was next to her ear.

“Whose nipple am I going to kiss, Holly? I need to know,” he said, his raspy voice sending bursts of wetness to her core.

He moved one hand from the wall and placed it on her hip, moving it down to her thigh, his fingers rising goose bumps along her soft flesh. “Holly…,” he began again, her rapid breathing encroaching on any words that might have formed.

“As your HUSBAND,” he said, placing a soft kiss on her forehead, “I need to know your boundaries here. Are you comfortable with my touching another woman’s body, if asked?” he questioned softly, his hand trailing up her stomach, her skin quivering in its wake. “Or, would you rather I touched you, and you only?” he purred as his hand cupped her side. His thumb trailed along the underside of her breast, and his eyes begged for permission.

Her mind was fuzzy, head spinning from desire and consumption. “Why…?” she whispered hoarsely, clearing her throat. “Why are you asking me this?” she asked, her hands rising to take hold of his t-shirt. The rough, scratchy material of his jeans against the smooth skin of her thighs distracted her, and she pushed her hips towards him.

He pressed his torso against hers, his smooth cheek pressed against her face. “Mul—“ she started, and he groaned purposely into her neck, preventing the name from escaping her lips. He pulled his face back, and she closed her eyes, nodding, acknowledging her mistake.

He looked down the hallway again, noticing the camera’s angle had shifted in their direction. “Do you trust me?” he rasped, their noses touching, breaths mingling. His hips moved involuntarily against hers, and she gasped, her fingernails digging into his side. His moan caught in his throat, the feeling of her body against his igniting nerve endings he’d completely forgotten existed. The electricity was heavy, and his brow broke into a sweat. 

“Answer me, Holly. Do you trust me?” he rasped, his heavy breathing tickling the fine hairs framing her face.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice more breath than sound.

“Do you remember why we are here?” he whispered, leaning his head down, pressing his lips softly against her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she tilted her head to the side.

She knew what he meant when he asked her that. ‘We have a job to do. Remember your role.’

She brought her hands up to his face and centered it in front of her, her hands cupping his cheeks.

“Yes…, but I trust you, Paul,” she said, looking deeply into his eyes. “I only have one rule for tonight,” she said, her eyes darting between his mouth and his eyes.

“Yeah?” he breathed, his eyes watching her mouth. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

“What happens here stays here,” she said, running her fingers through his hair. His eyes closed, and he pushed his body further into hers.

“We are here to learn…,” she said softly, brushing her lips against his cheek, “and explore,” she whispered, her lips edging against the side of his mouth.

Her message was clear: no one at the bureau is to know what goes on here, even if it is under the premise of their jobs.

He hummed his approval, leaning into her, and wrapped his arms around her waist, looking into her eyes. She looked deeply at him, imploring him to understand what she was trying to say—that she was terrified, nervous as hell, and scared to expose herself, not just to perfect strangers, but to HIM, especially him.

But she was also excited – her neck flushed, her folds swelling in anticipation. What was he doing to her? How was it possible to feel so nervous, so scared…, and so unbelievably turned on at the same time?

“I have my eyes set on the third party,” Mulder said as his hands rubbed her back, stroking down her sides, her thighs and back up again. 

“Me too,” she breathed, her lips soft against his cheek.

“Are you willing to do whatever it takes to get invited back?” he asked, his hands running against the soft skin of her bare thigh, his fingers toying with the edge of her skirt. His eyes told her ‘Trust me, Scully. I would never hurt you.’

“Yes,” she answered, her voice heavy with arousal as she shifted directly against his cock. He hissed, pressing against her. She was going to kill him, he was sure of it. If she was half as aroused as he was, he was sure she was dripping right through her panties. He salivated at the thought of touching her, his fingers sliding through her wetness. He could swing her leg up over his hip so easily, open his fly and fuck her right here.

The best part was, no one would bat an eye.

She saw the arousal in his hazel eyes, growing darker by the second. “Whatever it takes?” she questioned, her breathing ragged. He answered with a nod, his mouth slack as he eyed her lips. She’d thought about moments like this many times. Mulder pressing her against a wall while ravishing her body…

She closed the distance between them and pressed her lips to his, opening her mouth immediately as their heads tilted, deepening the kiss. The feeling of his tongue inside her mouth made her gush again with desire. She was swollen with need. He pressed closer, moaning into her mouth as she sucked on his tongue. He ground his hips into her, his erection granite-hard against his jeans.

Until suddenly, the bathroom door opened, and Scully straightened in surprise, reality crashing back over them.

He rested his face beside her neck and placed his arms back against the wall, backing away until his hips were no longer pressed against her body.

“Think we gave him a good show?” he whispered breathlessly. The cameras. Harold was watching.

Her heart sunk as she reminded herself. His little seduction had been for Harold. This was work.

Scully licked her lips and avoided his eyes, seeing the open door to the bathroom. “I’m going to freshen up,” she said, walking towards the room, needing a moment to escape his heat and to compose herself.

But before closing the door, she looked back, her eye being drawn to the obvious bulge in his jeans. Perhaps their little encounter hadn’t been entirely for show. It appeared to have affected him just as intensely as it had her. 

“You might want to take care of that before we go back out there,” she smiled, her face flushed with arousal.

He watched her close the door and ran his hands through his hair.

The games were about to begin.


	3. Let the Games Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their romp in the hallway, Mulder and Scully are introduced to the art of erotic massage

Scully was sitting on the couch, legs crossed, eyebrow arched, when Mulder returned from the bathroom. She smirked at his red cheeks, noticing the sizeable bulge that he’d had just moments ago was no long present. She licked her lips slowly. Maybe next time she’ll ask to help… The thought alone made her throat dry, and she took a healthy swig from her cocktail while her cheeks flushed.

 

He sat beside her, resting his arm completely across her lap, squeezing her left thigh with his left hand. It was warm on her skin, and her cheeks flushed when she remembered where it must have just been. 

 

She brought her drink to her lips, downing the remainder in one large gulp.

 

She swallowed, brushing her hair from her face, and leaned into Mulder’s side.

 

Let’s go.

 

Alisha stepped to the center of the living room, couches and chairs circled around her. There were six couples total. Of course, Mulder and Scully had already met Kathy and Rod, but they were unfamiliar with the rest. After introductions, Scully learned that most of them had been in the “lifestyle” for many years; Kathy and Rod were in their sophomore year, so to speak, leaving Mulder and Scully, and one other couple, as the freshmen of the crowd.

 

“Tonight, we are going to do something a little different,” Alisha said, smiling to the crowd. Each couple looked to their partner, eyebrows arching in interest. “I know that we generally do a game on our first night, but Harold and I decided to try something new.”

 

She walked around the perimeter of the room, dimming the lights and lighting a few scattered candles. Mulder’s grip on Scully’s leg tightened. She turned her head to look up at him. He leaned down so she could whisper in his ear. “What do you think is going on?” she whispered, and he shook his head.

 

“Tonight, we are going to learn some techniques for erotic touch,” Alisha said, and the couples around the room smiled, murmuring their approval, while Mulder felt Scully tighten next to him, swallowing audibly.

 

One of the more veteran members was laughing lightly as her husband nuzzled her neck. “Alisha, will this erotic touch be with a person of our choosing, or with our partners?” she asked the hostess. Alisha rolled her eyes and laughed at the couple. “No, this will be with your partner, and your partner only,” she said. Scully visibly relaxed next to Mulder, but the nerves in the pit of her stomach remained. What exactly would this entail?

 

“Guys, look,” Alisha started, noting some of the disappointed faces on her guests, “This lifestyle is first and foremost for couples who have a strong relationship.

 

“This exercise is to demonstrate that your priorities are first and foremost to your partner… But I promise you, you’ll be so worked up by the end of it, you’ll be all too happy to go home and fuck,” Alisha finished. The group erupted in hoots and hollers, and Mulder laughed uncomfortably while Scully blushed, ducking her chin.

 

“Okay. So, everyone will need a towel, which can be found over there in the corner. I want the women to lie down on the towel, stripped to their preferred level of comfort. Husbands, you may remained clothed…for now,” she said with an impish grin on her face.

 

The couples all rose, some gathering towels while the others began to undress. Scully could feel her knees shaking as she stepped out of her heels.

 

“Can I have the husbands come with me for a few minutes? Ladies, if you’ll get undressed and lie on your backs… I’m going to borrow your husbands, but I promise to bring them back.”

 

Mulder cupped Scully’s face, seeing the trepidation in her eyes. “Whatever it takes,” he whispered. Her lip curled into a tight smile, and she nodded imperceptibly. He saw other couples kissing and touching each other, as husbands watched their wives undress. He lowered his mouth to hers, his tongue tasting the sweetness of the juice from her drink. “What happens here, stays here,” he whispered into her ear, winking at her at before he left the living room, joining the other husbands with Alisha.

 

Scully took a deep breath and turned her back to the group, lifting the hem of her tank and pulling it up her body. It’s just like a bathing suit, she rationalized. Kathy stepped over to Scully and touched her arm. “Hey… You doing okay so far?” she asked quietly, and Scully gave her a shaky laugh.

 

“I uh…,” she said, brushing her hair from her eyes, folding her tank top. “I’ll be okay. It’s just new,” she smiled at the other woman. It’s just new. Seven years new—she laughed at the irony, and her stomach fluttered in anticipation.

 

Kathy stepped closer to Scully as she took off her own bra. Scully averted her eyes. It felt like the locker room at the gym; confident women strutting naked through tiled walls, while Scully sat wrapped in a white towel, attempting to remain modest as she awkwardly dressed and undressed.

 

Kathy leaned towards her again. “Keep your bra and panties on… They make it harder for the guys… in more ways than one,” Kathy snickered. She took note of the women around her, and took comfort in seeing one of the more veteran women also still in her bra and panties. She wanted to play the game and be invited back…, but she wasn’t ready to strip naked in front of a group of people.

 

She rolled her towel onto the floor and laid down, noting that all the women had done the same thing. Some had their eyes open, others closed. The room was relaxing. Soft lights flickered from the candles, and soft music began playing in the background. It was almost spa-like. She took a deep breath.

 

The sound of the men approaching the living room made her stomach roll with nervous energy. Alisha walked into the living room and kneeled in the middle of the carpet, speaking quietly. “Okay, ladies, you all look beautiful. Your husbands are very anxious to come in and show you what we discussed while you were undressing. I want you to keep your eyes closed. I’m going to place a small, lavender rice bag across them— the more relaxed you are, the more pleasurable this experience will be for everyone,” she said, getting up and walking around the room. 

 

\---

 

She felt his presence before he ever even touched her, and her nipples tightened, her breaths quickening in anticipation. The rice bag that lying over her eyes was far from soothing. It was unnerving, not being able to see him. Her skin prickled as she awaited his touch, her heart pounding in her chest. 

 

His thigh brushed against her foot, and she jerked, her sense of touch heightened without her sight. She could almost hear the smile on his lips, and she licked her own. Her hands shook by her sides, and her breaths came shallow and fast. Inching her fingers around, she was desperate to touch him, if only to reassure herself that he was actually there. 

 

Alisha's voice, as quiet as it was, resonated in her ears like a cannon, all her senses on high alert. Waiting…Waiting for him to touch her. She couldn't control the rush of heat to her sex, her folds swelling with forbidden desire, her skin prickling in anticipation.

 

"Ladies," Alisha stage whispered, "keep as still as possible, and keep your eyes closed. Erotic touch uses all five of your senses, and by taking away your sense of sight, you'll notice your other senses are heightened. Husbands, remember what we spoke about in the other room. And everyone, no speaking. You are going to learn how to arouse your partner without having speech to rely on," she said. Scully shivered at her words. Erotic. Senses. Heightened. Speaking. Arouse. 

 

She felt the heat from his body as he kneeled by her right side, the tiny hairs on her arm lifting, pulling towards him like a magnet. The spa-like music seemed extra-loud in her ears compared to the otherwise silent room, and she sought him out in the darkness, needing his presence. 

 

Her eyes twitched behind the eye mask, and she felt the soft material sliding from her face when she moved her head. His fingers touched her temple, and she gasped. His breath burned her ear. "It's just me," he whispered, and she shivered. His hands adjusted the cover over her eyes, and she found her chin lifting, searching…, rooting for his warmth.

 

She heard him fiddling with something next to her head, and she gasped when warm liquid pooled on her stomach. His hands were warm, both of them covering the entire expanse of her belly. They moved over her skin, gliding effortlessly as oil was pushed and pulled through his fingers. It smelled earthy, masculine. Hints of cedar and patchouli wafted over her. His hands stroked her belly, swirling in large circles as he swept from below her breasts to above her panties. His fingers slid between her ribs, and over the bones of her torso, memorizing her. With each push and pull, her lithe body moved with his strokes, like the way boats rock against the ocean. 

 

He lightened his touch, and she bit her lip to keep from whimpering. Her body craved touch… Needed it. Especially his, though she would never admit it out loud. With each pass of his hands over her belly, she felt her synapses firing, neurons creating connections, increasing their activity. 

 

His finger swirled around her belly button, and she quivered, her skin rippling, twitching. The tips of his fingers were feather-light, teasing her skin, almost ticklish in their assault. He swept them up her belly, and down, each stroke inching closer to her panty line. Her belly quivered in waves, and she bit her lip, arching gently into his hand. 

 

Each time his fingers touched the hem of the black lace covering her sex, her center swelled, warmth gushing and soaking the small piece of silk separating his hand from the place her body most desired him. 

 

Her breaths were quick and uneven, her body shuddering. Her nipples were impossibly hard, and each gasp sent them pounding into the delicate lace that shielded them from his view. They ached to be touched, swollen and heavy as her desire grew. 

 

His breathing was ragged above her, matching her own in intensity. Was touching her turning him on, too? She ached to be able to see him, to touch him, but her hands were frozen, incapable of movement. With a stroke of his fingers, he traced her sternum. Her back arched into his hand and she whimpered, biting her lip to muffle the sound.

 

Jesus, the effect his hands had on her body… How many times had she pictured him touching her, stroking her? Her body recognized his hands like a second skin, and while his touch was normally used to calm or guide her, the way he touched her now was anything but. His touch excited her, stimulated her, and the evidence of what he was doing to her was present all over her body. 

 

Small gasps and moans could be heard around the room, adding to the sensual atmosphere, increasing her own desire triple-fold. Her ears hummed with the sounds, and her skin burned with lust. 

 

But then, just like that, his hands were gone, and a small squeak escaped her open mouth. Her skin trembled in the absence of him. She shifted on her towel and licked her lips. Where'd he gone? She knew he was still beside her— he could sense his energy, feel his heat. She could hear him breathing, heavy and intense. 

 

She could feel him watching her. Breathing her in. Her clit throbbed at the thought. His body was so close, and yet so far away. 

 

Her lips felt dry, her insistent and dry breaths chapping the delicate skin. As if he could read her mind, she felt his fingers trace around them, the oil bitter as it dripped into her mouth. She was so sensitive, she could feel the ridges of his thumbprints bump along the surface. 

 

Her lips parted, and his thumb pulled at the lower one, exposing the wet, pink flesh of the inside of her mouth. Her jaw relaxed and as he trailed it across her wet skin, and she caught the tip between her teeth, her tongue darting out briefly to touch it. His small gasp sent another gush of wetness to her already sodden panties. She only hoped he wouldn't notice. 

 

Her stomach rolled with nervous jitters, reality looming like a dark cloud, threatening to pour down at any moment. This was a case. This was an act, she kept reminding herself. He wasn’t touching HER, he was touching Holly. He was touching Holly the way a husband should touch his wife. And she wasn’t his wife. She wasn’t even his lover. But with each swipe and pass of his warm hands across her skin, she could feel it, feel his affection, his tenderness. It was incredibly confusing. 

 

The rustling of his jeans alerted her to his movement, and she fought the urge to turn her head towards it. He kept one hand on her skin while he moved around her. She gasped shakily as his hands closed around her ankles, spreading them, resting them next to his thighs on the floor. She nuzzled his thigh with her foot, desperate to increase the friction, to increase the surface area of his body to hers. A part of her wanted him to know what he was doing to her, and another part of her was mortified he could already tell, that her secret was exposed. What in the fuck was happening to her? 

 

He gripped her ankle tightly in warning. You can't touch me, it said. Her brows furrowed in frustration, and she licked her lips, her hips shifting against the towel. His fingers travelled over her skin, scratching lightly up her leg, all the way to her knee, then back down to her ankle. She felt goosebumps erupt like little erections all over the once smooth skin. 

 

He moved on his knees between her spread legs, bending and propping each foot beside him, until the backs of her thighs rested on the front of his jeans, her center open, practically exposed. She gasped at the new position. 

 

"Jesus," she heard him growl behind clenched teeth. Her lips formed letters for words, but no sound came forth. His grip on her knees tightened, and she fought back a whimper, shifting her hips towards him. It was only when she could smell her own arousal, clean and earthy, familiar to her own nose, that she understood his reaction. 

 

He could smell her. He could smell what he was DOING to her. 

 

Her cheeks reddened, and she was suddenly grateful for the dimmed lighting in the room, the bag over her eyes. Her neck prickled with embarrassment, but the ache inside of her, and the clench of her inner walls begging to be filled, outweighed it all. 

 

His hands smoothed down her thighs, the heel of his palm digging into her meaty flesh, and she moaned. The tips of his fingers touched the sensitive skin of her groin with each swipe, and her hips arched into his hands. She couldn’t help it. She wanted it. She wanted him to touch her. 

 

He gathered more oil and, starting at her knees, massaged down her inner thighs with long strokes until her thighs clenched involuntarily. Fuck, that felt good. She moaned low in the back of her throat, and his hands paused on her thighs. Don’t stop, she wanted to tell him. She relaxed her thighs, dropping them to the side, and he sucked in a shaky breath, resuming his ministrations. 

 

His fingers made tiny circles up her legs, causing them to twitch with each new touch. Further, further, until his fingertips brushed her panties, briefly pausing, lingering, edging the line. 

 

Her breath caught in her throat, and she brought her hips forward in a small thrust. A silent invitation.   
A part of her brain wanted to know, wanted to open her eyes and look at his face. But another part of her knew that if she looked into his eyes, and his desire didn't match her own, she would crumble into a million pieces. 

 

His hands ventured the same trail again, smooth and gliding effortlessly with slickened palms. His touch was deep, strong, and brave. With each whimper, each thrust of her center towards him, his hands touched her deeper, his touch more and more confident with each sign she gave him. 

 

He reached the crease outlining her center, and his thumbs swept broadly, quickly, stroking the highest portion of her inner thighs. He was dangerously close to where she so desperately wanted his touch. Her sex was swollen, aching, dripping wet. Could he feel her desire when his thumbs reached that high? Could he feel the way she reacted to him, to his touch? 

 

Her body was shaking with arousal, her mind clouded with a fog of lust. All she could focus on was the feeling of his thumbs edging that line. Close, so close. Each time his hand swept back, she whimpered, and each time he reached again, her legs shook with desire. It was the most intense feeling she had ever felt, and she was sure that if he touched her wet, swollen sex that she would come right there in his hands. It was so cloudy, the fog so heavy, that reality ceased to exist. Without thinking, she whimpered, then whispered pleadingly, “God…touch me, please.” 

 

His hands immediately stilled on her legs, and she bit her lip, writhing against the sheet, desperate for his touch. 

 

“Holly…,” he said, his voice low and deep. 

 

Scully gasped, and the fog dissipated quickly, her rational mind coming back into focus. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. 

 

She had let the moment get to her. 

 

She wasn’t Scully. He wasn’t Mulder. She was Holly. And he was touching Holly. Her chest burned with an ache she couldn’t recognize, and instinctively, she brought her arms across her chest, her knees drawing together. She had forgotten her role, and let her arousal control her. She cursed herself for being so stupid. 

 

She listened to the room full of people, the erotic gasps, the wanton moans, her skin tingling with the memory of her partner’s hands on her body. She felt raw, exposed, and uncomfortable. The touch that just moments ago was tender and erotic, now made her stomach flip in mortification. She was grateful that the lavender bag hid her eyes from his view, especially when she felt the first tear break free. 

 

She had never felt lonelier in her life. 

 

(Continued in Chapter 4, hopefully to be released the last week of May)


	4. His Touch, Her Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to load. My beta was in NYC to see Streetcar and so we had to wait. Follow me on Tumblr @2momsmakearight I always post there first, and Tumblr gets additional, um, visual aids added within the story.

(continued from Chapter 3…)  
Her body was shaking with the force of her arousal, her mind clouded with the fog of lust. All she could focus on was the feeling of his thumbs as he edged that line. Close, so close. Each time his hand swept back, she whimpered, and each time his hand slowly reached for that line again, her legs shook with desire. It was the most intense feeling she had ever felt, and she was sure that if he touched her wet, swollen sex that she would come right in his hands. It was so cloudy, the fog so heavy that reality ceased to exist. She whimpered, and whispered pleadingly, “Touch me, please.”   
His hands immediately stilled on her legs, and she bit her lip, writhing against the sheet, desperate for his touch. 

“Holly…,” he said, his voice low and deep. 

Scully gasped, and the fog dissipated quickly, her rational mind coming back into focus. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. 

She had let the moment get to her. 

She wasn’t Scully. He wasn’t Mulder. She was Holly. And he was touching Holly. Her chest burned with an ache she couldn’t recognize, and instinctively, she brought her arms across her chest, her knees drawing together. She had forgotten her role, and let her arousal control her. She cursed herself for being so stupid.   
She listened to the room full of people, the erotic gasps, the wanton moans, her skin tingling with the memory of her partner’s hands on her body. She felt raw, exposed, and uncomfortable. The once tender, arousing touch of him now made her stomach flop with mortification. She was grateful that the lavender bag hid her eyes from his view, especially after she felt the first tear break free. She felt crushed. She had never felt lonelier in all her life. 

 

Chapter 4: His Touch, Her Trust

 

He furrowed his brows in confusion as she closed off to him. Something obviously had happened, but he wasn’t sure what it was. 

With her arms crossed over her chest and her knees pressed together, he knew this wasn’t part of an act. Her hesitation was real. He had taken it too far, had made her uncomfortable. He shook his head as guilt overwhelmed him. 

He let his hands trail back down her legs, sliding slowly, gently. He crawled to kneel at the top of her head and cupped her cheeks. Running his fingers through her hair, he let the delicate tresses fall from his fingers. His thumbs caressed her jaw, massaging the tense muscle, willing her to relax, to trust him. He would rather die than hurt her, and he only hoped she knew that. 

He swept his thumbs across her face, under her cheek bones, across her chin and along her jaw. Her face visibly relaxed under his fingers, and he couldn’t help but lean down to press his lips to her forehead. 

His hands swept down her arms, which lay across her torso. They lingered on her fingers, lacing them into his own, gripping them in a silent plea, a request for forgiveness. 

Her breath hitched slightly, and when she tightened her fingers between his, he smiled into her forehead, pressing another kiss to her heated skin. 

He rested his face beside hers, gripping her fingers tightly between his. He kissed her shoulder, and turned his face into her ear. She shuddered as his hot breath coursed over her over-sensitized skin. “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered into her neck, and he felt his heart swell when he saw goosebumps break out over her body. Did she have any idea how much he wanted her? 

He lifted her arms from her protective stance, and placed them gently at her side, letting his fingers slide through hers, pressing them into the floor, the oil slick as he twined them together. He had pictured this before, of course—gripping her fingers as he pressed them into a mattress. Her own grip was strong, in return, reassuring him. It was okay. Everything was okay. 

The room smelled of sex, feminine arousal coursing through the air like perfume in a department store. He tried to control his breathing, to make sure she couldn’t tell how she was affecting him. She couldn't know. Of course, she would understand. Women were moaning, sighing, gasping all around him. It's only natural that he should be sporting the erection of the century. But she didn't need to know that his arousal had nothing to do with them, and everything to do with her. 

She was a vision, clad in a black lace shelf bra, her nipples edging the trim with each gasp and breath. The small black, lacy scrap of fabric covering her pussy taunted him, teased him, his mind seeing all the things he wished he could be doing to her…

 

He licked his lips to keep from drooling. 

His forehead beaded with sweat, and he shifted on his knees, his erection becoming almost painful. He crawled back down between her legs, running his hands up the fronts of her shins, his fingernails lightly scratching. 

He bit his lip to keep from moaning as he watched her legs part for him. For HIM. Slowly and (he hoped) respectfully, he placed them again beside his thighs, and the heady, intoxicating scent of her arousal invaded his nose once again. This was heaven.   
Gathering fresh oil, he resumed stroking her legs, slowly making his way back above her knees to her thighs. He watched her breaths grow rapid once again, and bit his lip as her thighs quivered beneath his hands. 

With each small squirm, the skin over her hipbones reflected in the light, the oil catching the yellows and golds of the candles. He wished she could see this, see how fucking beautiful she looked at this moment—the rise and fall of her breasts, her nipples hardened and tenting the thin material of her bra, her glistening body writhing under his hands. 

 

This image would be burned into his brain for all eternity. Her right knee dropped open, and her panties pulled towards her center. He caught the barest glimpse of flesh, pink and rosy, even in the dimmed lighting of the room.   
"Fuck," he gasped, his hands gripping her inner thighs with such force that she whimpered. He smoothed her skin in apology, then tilted his head to get a better view. One fold was almost entirely slipping outside the confines of her panties, and he growled low in the back of his throat.  
He had never felt so conflicted in his life; should he close her legs and move somewhere else, or should he take advantage of the opportunity? This was Scully, his partner, opening her legs for him...   
But, of course, it wasn't Scully. 

It was Holly. 

Wishful thinking on his part. Of course she was playing the role – Scully was nothing if not professional. But God, how he enjoyed touching her, making love to her in his own way…

He bent forward, bracing his hands on either side of her waist. Bringing his face close to the skin of her stomach, he inhaled her— her scent, the heady spices of the oil, her perfume, and something deeply feminine. He pursed his lips, blowing cool air around her belly button, and he smiled when he saw her skin quiver. 

She shuddered below him, her legs writhing. He blew again, this time directly over the marble sculpture of her hipbones. He stayed next to her hip, his mouth hot and warm as he breathed over her.  
He pressed his lips to her skin, and felt her back arch against him, a shaky gasp seeping from her throat. Her skin was covered in goosebumps, and it thrilled him. She couldn't fake that. He did that to her.   
This knowledge sent his body into overdrive. His cock was painful, aching for release. He bit down softly on her hip, almost growling into her skin, and she bucked her pelvis, yelping in surprise. His tongue soothed her, swirling around, tasting. She arched towards him, and her hands gripped the material of the towel so tightly, her knuckles were as white as the cotton. 

 

His grin was feral as he ran his tongue from her hip down into the crease of her thigh, his nose pressing into the silken flesh just outside her center. Christ, she smelled good. 

She suddenly stilled, and he looked up at her face, worried he had taken it too far. But there was nothing. She remained motionless, her body tense, breathing ragged. 

 

He braced his weight on one hand while the other reached forward, linking her fingers between his. An acknowledgement. It's me.   
With a tight squeeze back, she returned his gesture, and he kept his hand linked with hers, as he pressed his lips to the soft space between her belly button and hair line, trailing soft kisses against her skin. Her skin danced under his lips, the little hairs glowing in the candlelight. 

His tongue darted out, moving in a hot, wet line in the crease of her thigh, and she moaned, arching her back, her hips bucking into his face. He smiled, and repeated the action on the other side, attempting to draw in her flavor. He wondered if he were to move his tongue further inside her panty line, whether he’d be able to taste her arousal. His cock twitched at the thought. Her scent filled his nostrils, and her panties glistened in the dim lighting, her desire bleeding through the material, drenching it. 

 

Her legs writhed as his mouth continued to tease her. Each squirm of her legs shifted the material of her underwear, and his tongue discovered new, unbridled territory with each slow swipe.   
He moaned into her leg when his tongue finally tasted the soft flesh of her outer folds. Holy shit. She was bare. Clean-shaven. The image of Scully spreading her folds in the shower while she shaved them bare was more than he could handle, and he thrust his hips against the back of her spread leg. Christ.   
It took all of his willpower not to pull away the black lace, to bury his face between her legs.   
But he couldn't stop. She tasted so good, her skin so soft against his tongue. It would be so easy, he thought. So easy to pull her panties to the side and slide his tongue between her hot folds. He wondered whether she was as desperate for him to do it as he was. 

 

\---

 

This was how she was going to die. She was sure of it. Her heartbeat was erratic, her breathing bordering on hyperventilation. This was it. 

His hand anchored her to the floor, and shot bursts of heat straight through her center. He was so close to where she wanted him. So very close. 

Just a little...bit...more... 

She fought to keep her control, to keep her body as still as possible, to not let on that he was doing this to her, making her lose control. 

But it was hard. So hard. 

His breath was warm against her sex, and she quivered, whimpering to keep from pressing his face down and grinding her clit against him. 

 

She ached, throbbed. She could only imagine how wet she was. She clenched her inner walls, desperate for something to fill them. 

His tongue hardened, lifting the thin elastic, darting underneath it. She whimpered, her breaths raspy. She would have been embarrassed by the sounds she was making, but all the other women were just as vocal. Were their partners doing the same things to them? Jesus... It was maddening. It was achingly painful. Beautifully, achingly painful.

Her clit was throbbing, her walls clenching around the void inside of her, wetness seeping from her core. His tongue continued to stroke the line, delving against her outer folds. He kissed, licked, and bit her inner thighs, his fingers never stopping their movements against her skin. 

He lifted his head from her center, kissing a slow trail up her middle, pausing to gently nip at her skin. His kisses left a wet line from her navel to her sternum, and her body arched to meet his mouth at every turn. 

He crawled up her body, his hands walking along her sides, his legs straddling her hips. The heat off his body ignited every nerve inside her, even the small hairs of her skin following his movements.   
He took each of her hands in his, bringing them beside her head. 

 

She could feel his breath on her chest and she squirmed, her nipples erect, begging to be touched.   
His breath coursed across her skin, its warmth seeping through the material of her bra. He was practically lying on top of her, but he kept his chest and hips slightly elevated, from pressing into her, kept himself away from where she most wanted him. 

 

The room was spinning. She felt the walls closing in. It was sensory overload, and her senses were on high alert. She couldn't tell whether the moans in her ears were from her or the other women in the room, but it was nearing unbearable pleasure. Pleasure to the point of pain. The most exquisite, torturous pain. 

Her back arched dramatically off her towel as his teeth closed around her nipple. "God!" she cried, and he hummed, his tongue flicking her hardened peak. 

 

She didn’t care anymore. She didn’t care if they were on a case, or whether he was acting. She was so desperate to come. She needed to come right now. 

 

Her lids were closed, but she could see him behind her eyes. The Mulder behind her eyes was lust-crazed, eyes heavy with desire. She could see the impressive erection straining through the thick material of his jeans. His pupils were dark, dilated with his arousal. For her. The Mulder behind her eyes wanted her, desired her..., and not just in the name of the case. The Mulder behind her eyes wanted her as much as she wanted him. In her mind, his fingers were touching her, giving her what she desired the most. Fuck, it was good. 

 

For now, she let herself believe that it was true. Reality would come crashing back soon enough. For now..., for now she would allow herself to just feel.

 

\----

He lifted his head and looked down at her. God she was beautiful. Even with half her face covered with that ridiculous "calming" rice bag, she was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. 

From the sounds in the room, he knew the other women were close; his time with her was going to come to an end. His heart ached with disappointment. Would he ever see her like this again? Panting and writhing? For him, not just for a job? 

He moved his knees between her legs and lowered his torso on top of her, needing to feel her, to reconnect, if only for a moment. She gasped and moaned, her fingers gripping his hand tighter. God, she felt amazing, so soft, so warm. He cursed this ridiculous exercise and his need to remain clothed at all times. He wanted to feel her, really feel her. She arched against him, breathing shakily.

He couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help feeling her just one time, in the way he’d dreamt of for so many years. Slowly, he pressed his groin into her center and thrusted, just once. She gasped sharply, bucking herself back against him, neck arched, legs clenched, body shaking. Her drawn-out moan took his breath away. It was the most exquisite thing he’d ever experienced. 

And much as he knew she had probably faked it, in the back of his mind, he held out hope that possibly, he had just witnessed Dana Scully have an orgasm. He groaned into her neck in approval. 

He lifted his head from her neck, and noticed that the bag had fallen from her eyes. But she kept them closed, her breaths slowly returning to normal. He nuzzled her nose with his, and swept his lips lightly against her own. 

Her chin tilted up, searching for him. Her tongue darted out of her mouth and caught his lower lip. He moaned, and pressed his hips involuntarily into her again, and both moaned in unison. 

 

\---

Her mouth parted, and her tongue darted out to wet her lips. He touched it with his own, playing, exploring in the open air. It was incredibly erotic, and she was certain that if he thrust against her one more time she would come. Again. 

Her mind was still swimming with the power of the orgasm one thrust of his hips could induce. Jesus, what would happen if he ACTUALLY touched her? She shuddered with the thought, feeling fresh desire pool between her legs. His tongue was soft, and wet, and slid deliciously against her own. She melted into the powerful kiss. 

His lips molded over hers, and they both sighed into the kiss, their tongues swirling around each other’s. He pressed her into the floor even further, his fingers tightening their grip against her own. Feeling his warm lips after the gentle assault his fingers and mouth played on her body was like striking a live wire. They buzzed with excess electricity, and she moaned encouragingly into his mouth. 

Her inner walls were still pulsing, throbbing in the aftershocks, and the feeling of his hard body on top of her was not helping to quell her desire. He pulled away from her lips, and brought his mouth to her ear. "Jesus, you were good. I think we'll definitely be invited back," he whispered, smiling into her neck as he affectionately nuzzled her. 

She opened her eyes for the first time since the little exercise had started and she squinted, even in the dim lighting. 

Her chest felt heavy, and she couldn't breathe. This was real. This just happened..., and in a room full of strangers no less. His eyes were soft, and his skin pink, flushed, his arousal evident by the hardness pressed into her thigh. He cupped her cheek, and looked down at her with such adoration, such tenderness that her chest ached. Regardless of motive, this was Mulder, her best friend. She closed her eyes, relaxing under him. His fingers stroked through her hair, and he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. 

Suddenly, Alisha kneeled next to them and Scully tensed, discomforted by the presence of a stranger within the little space she and Mulder had made. 

"Holly..., Paul," she whispered, smiling. "You guys did a great job. Holly, you and Paul have amazing sexual chemistry. Here is your invitation for the next party. If you would like some private time, the room at the end of the hall is open for use. See you tomorrow afternoon," she said, winking at them both before she stood and walked to the next couple. 

Scully looked up at the ceiling, and Mulder rested his forehead against her chest, sighing heavily. Mission completed. Back to reality. 

With a small nudge, she pushed Mulder from her, and sat up. Mulder stood and offered her his hand. She wrapped one arm across her chest, feeling exposed, vulnerable in a room full of strangers.   
With downcast eyes and a thick swallow, she took his hand and he pulled her from the floor. She gathered her clothes, grateful that the other couples were too engrossed in themselves to notice her.   
He wrapped his arm around her, leading to the hallway where they had stood just an hour prior. Fuck. Had it only been an hour? 

They walked to the room Alisha had directed them to. He settled his hand at the small of her back, reassuring her of his intentions. Once inside, he closed the door, and leaned against it. "The rooms are private," he whispered, his head thudding against the wood. 

She paused, holding her clothes in her arms, nodding into the darkness. He smirked, rubbing his lips. "Well, I guess our performance was good enough for a second invite," he said, smiling. 

She simply nodded again, still clutching her thin garments. Right. Performance.

The air was heavy, and she felt his gaze piercing into her skin. The fog of lust had cleared. All that remained was the two of them - Mulder and Scully..., and the aftershocks of what had happened. 

"You okay?” he whispered, his brows furrowing with concern when he noticed her behavior, or lack of it.

She smiled to herself and shook her head. "I'm fine," she said softly, turning to him. "Really.... I'm just...," she sighed. 

 

"I know," he whispered. She wondered if he really DID know. Did he know what his touch did to her? 

She dropped her clothes on the bed and dressed quickly. She just wanted to get the fuck out of here. 

He stepped away from the door, and gestured to the bed. "Should we uh...," he smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"What?" she asked, nervously. 

"The bed," he clarified. "Should we mess it up or something? Make it look like we...," he trailed off. 

Her eyes roamed over the bed, and her heart ached in her chest. 

"Like we made love?" she whispered, her eyes burning with tears. She saw their bodies moving over the white sheets, his hips rocking between her legs, moans of pleasure coursing through the air... Her clit awakened, throbbing with desire, and she clenched her thighs together hoping to stave off the feeling. 

 

"Yeah," he sighed in agreement, his own eyes glazing, apparently lost in his own thoughts. Was he having the same vision, the same images playing like a movie behind his eyes? 

She shook her head, rejecting the hope that she so wished was real, and helped Mulder pull back the sheets and blankets.

He sighed, and looked over at her, noting her contemplative stare at the rumpled sheets. “Ready to go?” he asked, extending his hand to her. 

She nodded, and followed him out of the room.

\---  
The quiet inside the car on their drive back the apartment hummed in her ears, and her brain began conjuring up images of what had happened between them earlier in the night. 

Mulder touching her body…

Mulder’s tongue on body…

Mulder’s lips on her body…

Mulder’s body above her…, touching her, kissing her, stroking her until she came undone. 

It would have been so perfect if not for the beautiful irony of this being a case. The fact that he assumed she was just acting. Performance of a fucking lifetime. 

Like an energy field, she could feel him, his proximity. Her left arm burned from his body heat. She tingled with the leftover remnants of his skin against hers, and she crossed her legs, adjusting her too-low skirt against her thighs. 

For a moment, her eyes prickled with tears, and she wished she could cover her body. She was desperate for some semblance of normalcy, of modesty. 

She felt ridiculous. She felt exposed. Mostly, she felt confused, and if she was being honest with herself, she felt a little embarrassed. Why should Mulder think of this as anything more than just a case? Why did she allow her body to take her over the edge like that? The medical doctor in her reminded her that physiological response wasn’t something our bodies can necessarily control, and that it’s completely normal to feel aroused when being touched. But the woman in her felt a pit in her stomach that had very little to do with hunger. 

A part of her felt rejected by the man she desired. She knew it was ridiculous. This was neither the time, nor the place. 

She wished it were that easy to turn off her feelings.

He noticed her tugging at her clothing and could sense her discomfort. He reached in the backseat and handed her his jacket. She took his jacket without saying anything and draped it over her body, sighing shakily when his scent invaded her nose. 

“Scully? What’s wrong?” he asked. She licked her bottom lip and shook her head, giving him a small smile. “I’m fine,” she barely whispered, her voice heavy and choked. 

Her jaw was set and tense and he knew better than to keep pressing. He decided to change the subject, settling on the case rather than on her emotional state. “I thought you performed wonderfully tonight, Scully,” he said, smiling at her as he glanced between her profile and the road. 

Performed. 

Yeah, quite the performance, she thought. 

She turned to him, with a clipped tone. “What happened in there doesn’t leave this car,” she said heavily. 

He looked at her with furrowed brows. “Of course,” he said guardedly. “Scully, I would never—“ 

“I just…,” she cut him off, sighing with a lick of her lips. She closed her eyes. “I’m just…trying to process this is all…” She took a deep breath, warding off the bout of nausea threatening to form. “I’m not used to…,” she trailed off.

He sighed, looking over at her. “I know,” he said softly, trying to reassure her of his understanding. That he still respected her. That he still loved her. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, Scully?” he asked again as he pulled into the apartment complex. He put the car in park and pulled the key from the ignition, turning his body to face hers. His jacket was pulled high under her chin, her arms threaded through the jacket backwards. She closed her eyes and turned her face towards the window. 

“I’m fine…,” she began. Then she reached her hand out to his knee and touched it. “I am, Mulder. I’m fine. I’m just… This whole case is just…,” again, searching for the right words. “It was real, Mulder,” she whispered, picking at her fingernails. 

“What do you mean?” he asked softly. 

Her eyebrows rose, and she adjusted the arms of the jacket around her. “I mean, it was real. I knew walking into this case that there was going to be a certain level of…intimacy that would be required,” she said, her cheeks reddening. “But I guess I just wasn’t quite prepared for it…”

He didn’t know what to say. They sat in silence for a few moments, letting the sound of their breathing fill the air. Scully turned her head and looked out the window, feeling her throat constrict as words came to the surface. 

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. 

Mulder turned to look at her, his eyebrows pinched. “What?” he asked quietly.

She licked her lips, sighing gently. “During the massage, when your hands were…,” she paused, “…on my thighs…,” she paused again, feeling her cheeks burn. “I think I moaned…, and I asked…, “she sighed, feeling her stomach burn with embarrassment again. “I was responding to you…, and then you called me ‘Holly’…, and I’m sorry. I stepped over the line.” 

He shook his head. “Well, yeah, I called you ‘Holly’. That’s SUPPOSED to be your name, and besides…, we weren’t supposed to speak…,” he finished. She nodded twice, turning her face back to her side window.   
He didn’t get it. He didn’t understand. 

He looked at the back of her head, trying to gauge her reaction. Clearly, something was still bothering her. 

“Scully, you gotta help me out here,” he said, tapping his thumb on the steering wheel and shifting to turn more towards her. “There’s something you’re not telling me, and I feel like… Scully, you told me you would keep the lines of communication open,” he finished gently. “Please, Scully,” he whispered pleadingly. “Talk to me. This case is as uncomfortable for me as it is for you, and I need to know if I did something—“  
“You didn’t do anything, Mulder. It’s my fault,” she said, her voice choked with tears. 

He sighed, his anguished eyes memorizing the highlights of her hair on the back of her head. “What? But you didn’t—“ 

“I lost myself in there,” she said, quickly swiping a stray tear falling down her face, keeping the evidence from his gaze. “It’s just…embarrassing. I’m sorry,” she whispered.   
“But it’s ME, Scully,” he whispered. 

She pursed her lips, raising her eyebrows. “Exactly. It’s YOU,” she said so softly, he almost couldn’t hear her. 

“Scully, I STILL don’t understand what you’re talking about. Help me.”

“Mulder, I practically BEGGED for you to touch me...” Her voice was raised, echoing off the walls of the empty car. She paused, scoffing at her behavior.

“Wha—“ his voice trailed off as the memory flooded behind his eyes. *Touch me, please.*

“Oh,” he breathed. 

She snorted. “Yeah. Oh.” 

He couldn’t deny that the words had shocked him when they came from her lips. His cock hardened at the thought. 

He sighed, shaking his head as a small chuckle erupted from his lips. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Scully.” 

She shook her head, closing her eyes. “I can’t believe I did that,” she whispered, trailing off. 

He sighed, smiling to himself. “Well, I’m glad you did,” he said. She turned to face him, her incredulous eyes boring into his, begging for clarification. 

He shrugged, “Look, I’m glad you enjoyed it, is all,” he said, looking down at his lap. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, unsure of what or how to say what he wanted. He fidgeted in his seat before saying softly, “I WANTED you to like it, to feel relaxed…” 

She couldn’t fight the smile that formed on her lips as she watched him sheepishly look down at his legs, unable to meet her eyes. Her heart softened, and the embarrassment she once felt melted away at the sight of him. He really could be sweet sometimes. It was one of the things she loved about him. 

“I did like it,” she said softly. “Clearly,” she added, laughing at herself, though ‘relaxing’ was certainly not the word she would use to describe the way his touch affected her body. 

He lifted his head and smiled at her. She looked into his eyes and smiled back. Everything was okay. Tapping his thigh with her hand, she said, “Come on. Let’s go get some sleep. I think we need it after tonight.” 

Outside the car, he walked to her side and wrapped his arms around her as soon as she exited her door. She softened in his embrace, closing her eyes as his warmth washed over her. 

“Are we okay, Scully?” he asked as he pressed his lips into the top of her head. 

She pulled back from him and looked him in the eyes. “Yeah, Mulder. We’re okay,” she said. 

“So… It looks like a pool party tomorrow…,” Mulder grinned as he fished the keys from his pocket. 

She nodded, arching her eyebrow at his teasing tone.

“Does this mean I finally get to see you in a bikini?” 

“I guess you’ll just have wait until tomorrow to find out, won’t you?” she breezed past him through the door, and chuckled at the surprised look that fell across his face.

\----


	5. The Pool Party

Chapter 5: The Pool Party

Maybe it was the sun, maybe it was the four women in the pool with their tops off, maybe it was the three cocktails Scully had consumed (or swallowed whole, as Mulder had pointed out), but for whatever the reason, Scully found herself having a good time. And, like some cosmic alignment of the heavens, those factors combined were dangerous for Dana Scully, dangerous for the buttoned-up FBI agent whose persona was unlike the character she had to play, so unlike her. As she watched the sun glisten off her partner’s wet shoulders, water cascading down his muscular back, she thought that maybe it was a good thing. No one knew her here. Did she really even know herself? 

\----

She tossed and turned, the sheet and blanket bunched around her heated flesh. All night, her skin buzzed with the memory of his hands on her body, of his mouth on her skin. She felt her cheeks burn, fresh arousal coursing through her as she tried to recreate the sensations his hands had made. Behind her eyes, the evening ended differently. Behind her eyes, he didn’t stop when she begged him to touch her. He would pull her bra forcefully over her breasts and eagerly take her nipple between his teeth, twisting and pulling against the hardened nub. His fingers would dip underneath the elastic of her panties, stroking through her heated flesh as he whispered his intentions in her ear. 

Kiss you… Taste you… Fuck you… 

With a muffled groan, she arched against her pillows, her body shaking with the intensity of her release. Jesus… Just the thought of him… How was she ever going to finish this case without losing her inhibitions completely? 

Her mind wouldn’t stop. All night it danced between apprehension, and fear, to arousal and anticipation. What was he thinking? Was he awake, too? Just down the hall in the second bedroom, it would be so easy to leave her bed and enter his. Blame it on the case. Blame it on the power of his touch… Anything to take away the ache. 

But then the details of the case would return to the forefront, and her stomach would churn with anxious insecurity. What if he found someone at the pool party he was attracted to? Would he do it? Would he act on it? She couldn’t focus on that, however. There was still a case to solve, everyone a potential witness. It was their duty to mingle and blend in with the guests, gather information against their suspect. But could she do it? Could she separate it? Walking into the case she thought she could. But after the way his hands touched her earlier in the evening… God… The way his voice whispered in her ear… There was no separating it now. She only hoped he wouldn’t notice. Once this case was done, and she was back in her own space, everything would return to normal. It had to. 

The only problem was that she didn’t know if she could go the rest of her life without feeling him touch her, or kiss her again. And while the thought of deepening their relationship scared the fuck out of her, the deject loneliness of never feeling him on top of her again was too much to bear. 

Tears stained her pillow when sleep finally consumed her. 

 

\---

The Next Day…

 

“Holly…, wait,” he said, following her into the house from the pool, reaching for her wrist as she moved quickly towards the kitchen.

“I’m FINE,” she whispered, unable to meet his eyes, using the small metal tongs to drop ice cubes into her cup with more force than necessary. Mulder studied her closely, taking a deep breath as he looked around the room. The other couples were too busy in their own conversations to notice the spat between this supposed husband and wife.

“Holly,” he pled again, hoping that the strength behind his tone would force her eyes to meet his. Finally, she dropped her hands and looked at him, lips pursed and eyebrow arched. He swallowed nervously.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, almost whispering, looking to his side to make sure their conversation wasn’t being overheard. 

Her chin lifted, and her eyebrows rose as she shook her head in the negative. “Nothing’s wrong.”   
He tilted his head to the side, rolling his eyes slightly as he stepped closer to her. “Holly,” he warned. 

She looked up at him, seeing the genuine concern in his eyes. 

“Did something happen?” he prompted.

Her lips straightened to a thin line, and she shook her head in the negative, resuming the strategic move of dropping ice into the red cup. When she reached for the ladle of the punch, his hand stilled hers. She gasped, cursing herself that his warm hand could make her belly flutter.

“The punch…,” he said cautiously, reminding her that they suspected this may be the source by which Harold had been drugging his guests. However, by the look of the full bowl, Scully was relieved to note that others seemed to have steered clear as well.

Dropping the ladle back into the bowl, she leaned her elbows on the counter and rested her face in her hands. “What are we doing here?” she moaned quietly.

He pulled at her elbow, bringing her body into his arms. He meant the gesture to be soothing, calming her frayed nerves, but a half-naked Mulder, warm from the sun and smelling of coconut tanning oil with undertones of Jack Daniels was anything but calming. She took a deep breath, pushing away from him.

“I’m fine,” she whispered, running her fingers through her hair as she turned and looked for a suitable vodka bottle.

He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “You keep saying that. And yet, your behavior would hint otherwise.”

She mixed her drink, shifting her weight from one foot to the next. She was stalling. And he knew it.

“What’s really the matter?” he asked.

She sighed, closing her eyes as she tilted her chin towards the ceiling. “It’s ridiculous,” she whispered, sipping her drink.

He stepped closer to her, running his hand down her arm, wishing she would take off the fucking cover-up that covering her bikini clad body from his view. “What’s ridiculous?”

She turned to him, and he noticed a flush on her cheeks that had little to do with the sun. “I just don’t think I can do this.” She nervously looked into her cup. After a moment, she lifted her eyes to his, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw his twinkling in amusement.

“What?” she asked, bewildered by his expression.

Her eyebrows rose in challenge. “You think I enjoy running around half-naked while I’m supposed to be flirting with strange men…, strange MARRIED men, mind you…, AND working? Come on… It’s just not me. I haven’t dated in…,” she trailed off with a sigh, bringing her drink to her lips.

He scoffed. “Scu—Holly, you could have any guy in here, trust me,” he said, fiddling with his fingers, his gaze averted from her. He winced as his stomach bottomed out, twisting and rolling at the thought of Scully pursuing another man, even if they WERE on a case. He had seen the way their eyes followed her. He wasn’t fucking blind.

She blushed, ducking her chin. “Well…, even if that WERE the case, which I highly doubt, by the way, I’m just…,” she trailed off, sighing as her shoulders rolled with discomfort. “I can’t DO fake… You know that. Playing this…whatever this is. It’s just hard. It’s not me,” she finished softly, looking into the pink liquid of her cocktail.

He reached across, brushing his thumb along her cheek. “I know,” he said gently, smiling sweetly. “I’m hardly the Don Juan these women think I am,” he said, looking around the room. Scully scoffed.

“Please, you’ve had plenty of eyes on you since we got here, trust me,” she said, bringing the cup to her lips, hiding her distain with the thin plastic.

His eyebrows rose and he leaned forward, intrigued. “Really?”

She cocked her head, giving him the patented expression she reserved exclusively for his bullshit.

He stood straight and nodded, reaching out with his hands to touch her fingers. “Look, I know this is a lot…,” he started, looking around again for anyone listening. “But we are here for a reason, right?” he asked, hoping she understood. She looked sideways, nodding slowly.

“Okay, then… How about we just go out there, get in the water, and enjoy ourselves…, see where the day takes us?” he said. She didn’t love the idea, but she knew it was a necessary evil. Still, she couldn’t shake the pit in the bottom of her belly. She knew how he was around women, had seen the way he touched them, talked to them. Vision of Phoebe, Detective White, and Diana clouded her eyes. It made her blood boil. 

It broke her heart.

Diana had almost been the death of their partnership. She couldn’t take it if someone came between them now. She couldn’t watch him kiss and love on another woman in the ways that she has only dreamed of. 

“What happens here, stays here, right?” he said softly, smiling down at her, his thumb trailing softly down her cheek. She felt her nipples harden at his contact. She reached out and took his hand. 

She licked her lips and started, “Maybe it would be best if we had some rules for—“  
“There you are!” a sultry feminine voice came behind Mulder. Scully sucked in a slow breath, annoyance evident only to the person directly in front of her. Mulder plastered a fake smile on his face and turned towards the voice.

“Jessie, right?” he asked. Scully turned back towards the counter, rolling her eyes as she filled her red cup to the brim, vodka guzzling loudly. Mulder did a double-take at her before turning back to the busty woman next to him.

“Want to join me in the pool?” Jessie asked. She smiled up at Mulder, and then turned her face towards Scully, critically eyeing her appearance up and down. “Of course, you’re more than welcome to join, Holly,” Jessie said, extending the invitation almost begrudgingly.

“Yes, Holly…join,” Mulder said, his gaze boring into hers. Please do this with me, he wanted to say. The last thing Scully wanted to do, however, was get into a pool with Mulder, while women draped themselves all over him as she struggled to (literally) keep her head above the water.

Scully lifted her hand, shaking her head. “No, please… I don’t feel like getting wet. I… I would just be in the way,” she laughed uncomfortably.

“Holly… Come on. It’ll be fun,” Mulder said genuinely, reaching out for her arm.

She cocked her head at him. “It’s about the ‘experience’, right?” Scully said, throwing his words back at him. “Jessie’s beautiful. Have fun,” she said, swallowing thickly, hoping they didn’t hear her voice catch on the last words. She walked past both of them, bringing her sunglasses down from her forehead as she stepped back into the hot desert sun. So much for rules…

\---

She sat in the long lounge chair beside the pool, seething at Mulder behind her darkened shades. It wasn’t her jealousy that was most bothering, it was the notion that she KNEW she shouldn’t be jealous, and yet she still was. This wasn’t personal. This was a case. She and Mulder were, in fact, NOT a couple – as much as it was hard for her to admit, especially to herself. And regardless, even if they WERE, they were playing the part of a swinging couple. Jealously had no part in this case. It would only complicate matters even more. She felt foolish and would slap herself for her own ridiculous emotions, if her heart weren’t so constricted in her chest.

He had a part to play, she understood that. Just as she had a part to play. But she wasn’t the one who’d been scampering about with almost every beautiful woman in the pool that afternoon. He was on his best behavior, she gave him that. But she could see the exaggerated smiles and hear the fake laughter from the women standing around him. A few even removed their tops, and Scully’s stomach pummeled with each string untied.

Never once did he look back for her. Never once did he even SEEM to care what she thought of his behavior. It was almost as if the intimate way in which he touched her last night didn’t matter to him. And every time he lifted his hand from the water to touch the arm of another woman, or wipe water from one’s face, she shuddered, remembering all too well how his hands had felt on her body.

It shouldn’t hurt to watch. But it did. More than she wanted to admit.

He stood next to HER in the pool, Jessie. She was new – one of the new couples who had shown up tonight, and Scully knew his eyes would be drawn to her the minute she walked into the room. Little Miss Double-D, leggy, brunette, with a tramp stamp. She rolled her eyes and took a sip of the strong cocktail, wincing as the alcohol burned down her throat.

“Strong?” came a man’s voice to the side of her. Scully squinted into the strong desert sun, and looked up at the new arrival.

“I’m sorry, what?” she asked in clarification.

The young man sat down next to Scully, sharing the edge of her lounge chair as they stared at the pool in front of them. “I asked you if your drink was strong… Some guy made me one, and I’m afraid that another will knock me on my ass,” he chuckled, resting his hand on Scully’s knee. She flinched under his touch, and crossed her legs, removing his hand from her skin.

“I’m Kevin,” he said, extending his hand to her. “My wife Jessie is the one in the hot pink number talking with your husband, right?” he asked, gesturing to Mulder and Jessie.

Scully nodded in affirmation, and shook his hand, introducing herself.

Sipping her drink, she was cautious at the amount of alcohol coursing through her body, and continued to watch Mulder through the thick, darkened lenses of her sunglasses. They sat in silence for a few moments before Kevin cleared his throat.

“Do you uh…? Do you want to…join me…, them,…in the water?” he asked nervously. Scully looked at him sideways, and smirked at his obvious discomfort. She found comfort in the fact that he was inexperienced (much like herself). Kevin was not off-putting, or abrasive, or too sexually-forward. So far, he was actually good company. She gulped the remaining liquid from her glass and swallowed audibly, breathing slowly through her mouth as she felt the contents light a fire in her belly.

She looked over at Kevin, and he smiled, placing his hand once again on her knee. “Do you want to?” he asked again, nervously swallowing as he studied her face. Scully chuckled quietly and ducked her chin. He looked so nervous, biting his bottom lip like that. He pulled his hand back and shook his head, scratching his scalp.

“I’m sorry… We’re new to this… I have no idea what I’m doing,” he laughed, taking a swig from the long neck of the beer bottle.

Scully reached over and patted his leg, leaving her hand on his upper thigh. He looked down, his eyes surprised. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go swimming,” she said, inwardly smirking as she looked at Mulder and Jessie cozily talking in a tight corner of the pool.

Hell, if Mulder was going to play the game, she could play too. And with who better with Mr. Double-D himself?

She walked down the steps of the pool and swam out towards the center, keeping her eyes on his back as she glided through the silky water. Would he see her? Would he care if she was wrapped in the arms of another man? Her stomach twisted as she watched Mulder lift his fingers to Jessie’s hair, pushing it behind her ear in the same fluid motion he had done to her a hundred times before. 

Kevin’s long glide towards her closed the gap and she felt his arms wrap around her waist, as hers went instinctively around his neck. She stiffened under his touch, keeping her hands on his chest to provide necessary distance. But one more glance over at Mulder was enough to make her forget about ‘necessary distance’, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. 

“Are you okay with my holding you like this?” he asked quietly, as he glided them through the deeper portions of the pool.

She touched his chest with one hand and left the other wrapped around his neck. “It’s fine… I can’t touch the bottom right here anyway,” she rationalized. She saw his lips curl to a small smile, and she bit her lip. When was the last time a good-looking man held her in his arms, other than Mulder, she thought. It felt nice, if not slightly unnerving, given the fact that it WASN’T Mulder.

She could blame it on the booze, or the sun, or the enormous rush of jealousy she felt whenever she saw Jessie touch Mulder, but when she felt Kevin’s arm tighten around her waist, she refused to think rationally, turning in his arms to bring her lips to his.

She didn’t know what had gotten into her, but the rush she felt as his tongue entered her mouth was amazing, igniting a thick warmth which spread outward to her limbs. With a hand on her thigh and another behind her head, Kevin moved them to the edge of the pool and pressed her against the cool concrete.

Deepening the kiss, she tilted further to the side and opened her eyes…

Straight into the gaze of a shocked, stone-faced Mulder, with Miss Double-D herself hanging on his arm.

The painful recognition in his eyes should have stopped her, but it only made her kiss Kevin harder. Wasn’t that what they were supposed to be doing anyway? Swinging? Wife-swapping?

\---

What the actual fuck, Scully?

It almost hurt to watch her, but he couldn’t tear his gaze from her as her mouth latched greedily onto the lips of the man in her arms.

In her arms.

His brows furrowed in confusion at her actions, his heartbeat resonating in his ears like a drum. He watched as her arms tightened around Malibu Ken’s neck, and felt his heart drop into his stomach. He shook his head gently, genuinely confused…, and if he allowed himself, hurt.  
He’d never expected her to seek comfort in the arms of another man.

The look she gave him while Kevin rammed his tongue between her full pink lips was unreadable. He saw a warning there, ‘we are on a case’, but there was something else. 

Something he couldn’t decipher even if he tried. He bit his lip as he watched her wrap her legs around his waist, and his eyes narrowed when he saw Kevin’s hand run beneath the water, along her thigh.

“Looks like Holly met Kevin,” Jessie suddenly piped in, watching her husband and Scully with amusement. She turned to face Mulder with her pearly white smile, and he gave her a sideways glance, swallowing thickly. He watched Scully for one final moment before turning and wrapping his arms around Jessie’s waist, crushing her chest to his.

“Well…, this is nice,” Jessie commented, her breaths shallow and low. Mulder nodded, feeling his throat tighten. He couldn’t speak. What the fuck was he doing? His job. He was doing his fucking job, he reasoned.

Jessie’s warm lips descended upon his own, and he immediately felt his cock harden. He slid his hand through her wet hair, and tried not to think about the dark brown tresses being so different than the fiery red that usually consumed his fantasies.

\---

Kevin’s hands moved down her thighs, squeezing her flesh as his teeth bit softly into her jugular. She gasped at the sensation and opened her eyes, surreptitiously searching for Mulder from their corners. She whimpered softly as she watched his mouth move languidly over Jessie’s.

Scully watched the brunette reach behind and untie the neon straps from her back, her fake breasts spilling from their flimsy encasements, rubbing against Mulder’s chest. She gasped in horror as her stomach bottomed out. Kevin nuzzled her neck, “You like that, baby?” he crooned into her skin, mistaking her gasp for pleasure instead of heartache. She pushed away, suddenly desperate for some distance.

“You okay?” Kevin asked.

She shook her head softly. “I’m sorry I…,” she trailed off, and looked again to Mulder whose mouth was firmly suctioned to Jessie’s neck. Tears prickling her eyes, she turned back to Kevin. “I’m sorry, Kevin… This isn’t… I can’t…,” she stammered, searching for the right explanation.  
He smiled kindly at her. “It’s okay, Holly,” he said. She smiled her thanks and swam towards the pool’s steps. Crawling up the steps, her legs felt heavy, laden with alcohol and heartache.

She abrasively toweled off as she mentally cursed Skinner for ever involving her in this case to begin with. Sure, she wanted to arrest Harold. She thought what he did was heinous, and agreed he deserved the harshest punishment for his crimes. But she hated this assignment. She hated what it was doing to her partnership with Mulder. To her relationship with him. Until this case, they’d been growing closer together, but now they were being torn apart, suddenly surrounded by friction, with more unanswered questions than had ever existed before.

She just wanted to go home.

 

Alisha’s voice rang from the center of the patio. “Okay, everyone!!! Who wants a go on the Sybian?!” she called.

Scully focused her gaze on Mulder, watching him lose himself in the arms of a beautiful woman. A beautiful woman who wasn’t her. She swallowed thickly, and wrapped the towel around her, tucking it between her breasts as thick droplets of water dripped from the ends of her hair.

“Holly!! Come on! Try this baby out!” Alisha’s voice said loudly. Scully looked in her direction, and noticed a few people waiting for her response. Looking back at Mulder one more time, she noticed he was still…otherwise occupied. With a resigned sigh, Scully smiled tersely at Alisha and walked her way. ‘Just do whatever you need to do to get to the next party,’ she reminded herself. The sooner this was over, the sooner she could get back to her normal life.

When she reached Alisha, she glanced at the ground to see a black saddle-like device with a rubber pad on top. “What is it?” Scully asked, brushing her wet hair from her forehead.

Alisha licked her lips and smiled. “Oooh, you’ve never used one before?” she asked enthusiastically. Scully’s eyebrow arched, and she began to wonder what she was getting herself into. 

“No,” Scully answered hesitantly, and Alisha’s eyes twinkled in delight.

“Oh, honey…, then you HAVE to try it out. You HAVE to. Come on. I’ll show you how it works,” she said.

Scully stepped back and bumped into a solid, hard mass. She looked behind her and realized that Rod was standing behind her. He smiled, placing his large hands on her petite frame to steady her. Kathy’s oil-slicked body stood next to her husband’s as she wriggled her eyebrows at Scully. “Seriously. It’s amazing. Just wait,” Kathy said, grinning encouragingly.

Scully’s eyes were saucers behind her glasses, and she turned back to face Alisha, who was prepping the device. What in the hell was this thing?

“Okay so… Holly, you’re going to straddle it like this,” Alisha said nonchalantly, showing Scully how to sit on the saddle, her knees resting on the warm concrete. “This little hard spot is where you want to focus your clit…”

“Wait, what?” Scully interrupted.

“Your clit, Holly,” Alisha laughed, as if Scully had never heard the word ‘clit’ before.

Scully’s mouth hung open, and she looked back at Kathy who nodded her approval. “It’s so good, Holly. Really,” Kathy reassured her, stepping behind to rest her chin on the smaller woman’s shoulder. Scully felt a deep blush begin in her chest, then radiate upwards.

“So I have to…? I’m going to…?” Scully stammered, asking for clarification.

Kathy turned her chin into Scully’s neck, her lips just outside her ear. “You’re going to come so fucking fast and hard,” she whispered seductively into her ear, and Scully couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down her body at both her words and her proximity. Placing a hand on Scully’s hip, she pushed her gently towards the machine.

“Jesus…” Scully breathed, pulling her lip between her teeth and eyeing the ‘toy’.

A small crowd gathered around, and she felt a sick sensation form in her throat. Where the fuck was Mulder? She looked through the crowd for him, but was unable to find his reassuring presence. Only when she peered between two guests could she see him, still in the water with Jessie, the scrap of her bikini top discarded against the side of the pool. Her stomach lurched violently.

“Holly?” Kathy inquired. Scully whipped back around to see Kathy on her knees, holding a black box in her lap directly in front of the saddle. Her tanned skin glittered in the summer sun, and stood in stark contrast to the white triangle bikini holding her perky breasts in place. Scully couldn’t help but notice her perfect cleavage, whist her own stood wrapped in a wet towel. 

She couldn’t believe she was even considering this. An orgasm in front of a group of people…? She felt her throat constrict with nerves and embarrassment. The guests stood around watching her as if what was about to happen was routine, no big deal. When she thought of all the other things they may have done at previous parties, she rationalized that a solo orgasm with a powerful vibrator was the LEAST of her concerns. 

But even still, she wished Mulder was there. She needed his comfort, his strength. With one final glance, she looked over at the pool again, and upon seeing Mulder still wrapped in the arms of the brunette beauty, she made her decision. 

Fuck you, Mulder. 

 

She gingerly walked towards the Sybian, her heartbeat nervously drumming in her ears. She looked at the small group around her, and while she should have been uncomfortable in their presence, she felt strangely supported by them, encouraged even. Images of fraternity wet t-shirt contests and beer pong flooded her mind, and she chuckled at the memories, noting (with ironic amusement) how full-circle her life suddenly appeared.

Once again, chasing the attentions of a man who’s not interested, and embarrassing herself under the influence of alcohol and peer pressure. ‘Just fucking fabulous,’ she thought as she bent and sat down, straddling the black leather.

She took a shaky breath, adjusting her hips against the rubber padding, warm from the exposure in the sun. She hoped she wouldn’t embarrass herself. Maybe she could remain still and silent… But, then it occurred to her that a ‘show’ may be exactly what she needed to do, especially if they wanted to be guaranteed an invite to the final party. 

She nodded. “Okay, so what now?” she asked. Kathy lifted the black box in her lap for Scully to see. “I have the controls. It’s going to vibrate, but you can tell me if you want it stronger or lighter…, and you just sort of…, enjoy it,” she said smiling.

Scully bit her lip and rocked her hips to find a better position. “Okay,” she breathed, “just start slow.”

Kathy pinched the small knob on the control box and twisted it to the first dial.

She jerked at the first vibration and wriggled her hips, aligning her center with the hard vibrating square. She gasped, laughing uncomfortably when her clit grazed the pulsating rubber piece, bracing her hands in front of her as she leaned into it. 

“How is it?” Kathy asked softly, her voice low and deep. Scully’s breasts practically spilled from her black bathing suit as her arms squeezed her cleavage to the center. Her bikini bottoms gapped as she gently rotated and moved her hips against the machine. 

Scully closed her eyes, dropping her head forward to focus on the sensations gripping her body. “Uhm..., it’s okay,” she breathed. Her clit ached with delicious pulse of the machine, and she moaned when she felt the intensity increase, wet arousal flooding her bikini bottom. Even on the lowest settings, this machine was already more intense than anything she had at home, and with the angle she pressing down onto it, the sensation was heightened even further.

Her nipples ached with arousal. Absentmindedly, she brought her hand up and touched her chest, gasping when the crowed murmured their approval. Her fingers closed around one hardened nub, and she whimpered as hot desire shot straight to her clit. All thoughts left her mind. It was utterly freeing, and it felt so…fucking…good. 

“More,” she demanded breathlessly. Her eyes remained shut, her head tucked down as her hips gently rocked back and forth. She couldn’t see the people around her, but she could feel their energy – feel arousal coursing from them in waves. In her mind, she pictured Mulder there, standing there…watching her. She pictured his eyes on her, his own desire strikingly evident in his board shorts. She moaned deeply at the image, her legs shaking against the strength of the vibrations. “Oh, God,” she squeaked, her head dropping forward even further into her chest. She could feel the vibrations practically in her face, her entire body humming from their strength. She rocked her hips, desperate to increase the friction, to increase the sensation.

Her hips moved of their own accord, her swollen flesh grinding against the material of her bikini bottom. Her eyes were pinched shut, her mouth open, jaw slack. She licked her bottom lip and pulled it between her teeth. “Fuck!” she whimpered, rocking faster.

“Faster…turn…up,” she demanded, her voice clipped and heavy. Kathy smirked, and twisted the knob two rotations higher.

\---

“Hey, Paul!” Mulder heard while his lips moved over Jessie’s. “Paul! Holly is riding the Sybian. Come on, man!” He pulled away and shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Paul?” Rod’s heavy voice boomed again. “Dude…”

Mulder turned his attention to the larger black man. “What?” he asked, dazed.

“Your wife is riding the Sybian, and it’s fucking hot. Come on!” he said, motioning for Mulder to get out of the pool and join him in the small crowd. Holly? Wife? HOLLY? Scully…

Exiting quickly from the water, he looked at Jessie apologetically. She shrugged and swam to the edge of the pool where her husband had been sitting, observing them as they kissed. Mulder hadn’t even realized her husband was there.

“What is she doing?” Mulder asked Rod, pointing his chin at the small crowd.  
“She riding the Sybian.”

“The what?” Mulder asked, ruffling his hair of the excess water.

“Just watch her. It’s hot. She’s gonna fucking come so hard, man,” he said excitedly.

“She’s gonna WHAT?” Mulder turned, shocked. Scully was going to come? What?

He pushed through the crowd until he saw her, and felt his heartbeat surge in his chest at the image.

Her hips were rocking, rubbing herself back and forth. Her head was thrown back, her wet hair tickling the space between her shoulders. “Oh my God,” he heard her whimper. He felt his cock twitch.

“Is it good?” Kathy’s throaty voice asked Scully, and he swallowed, his eyes darting between the two women.

Scully’s head came forward, and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, her hands coming up to pinch her nipples. Groans escaped the mouths of a few of the men, and Mulder’s jaw tensed. “Does she know people are watching her?” he asked Rod, his voice thick with affection and arousal.

Rod nodded. “Oh yeah… “

Kathy caught Mulder’s eye and motioned with her chin for Mulder to come join them. He quietly stepped over and kneeled down on the warm concrete. He felt his erection attempting to poke through the material of his board shorts, and he pinched the material, adjusting it against the sensitive flesh. He would have been embarrassed if not for the fact that every other man watching her was also hard. How could they not be? He had never seen anything more arousing in his life.

Scully’s hand kneaded her own breast, and she moaned, using her free hand to steady her body as she rocked against the machine. Mulder moaned low in his throat at the sight, picturing her body moving the same way as she straddled his lap, his cock moving in and out of her wet heat. He swallowed thickly, and walked on his knees until he was close enough to touch her, needing her to know he was there.

He reached his hand out, gently touching her thigh to alert her of his presence.

\---

She felt his hand, and the electricity of his skin made her jerk violently. She yelped, whipping her face up so she could see who had touched her.

Mulder.

Seeing his face was enough to make her come, and she felt her pussy contract with fresh desire. “Ohhh fuck,” she moaned, gripping the sides of the Sybian with her shaky thighs, laughing nervously. She couldn’t believe Mulder was going to watch her. But she didn’t care. It felt too fucking good to care – all rational thought was completely gone from her mind. His presence only heightened her arousal, especially when she saw the look of desire on his face. 

“Hey,” Mulder said, unsure of what to say. The sunglasses blocked her eyes, and he lifted his hand to gently remove them. He wanted to see everything. Needed to see her wholly. He placed her glasses on the ground and put both of his hands on her thighs, hoping she found comfort in his touch, knowing that ten pairs of eyes were glued on her writhing body. 

He could only assume she must be extremely uncomfortable. Little did he know that she was anything but uncomfortable… Not anymore, at least.

Her thighs twitched and tensed as he kneaded the soft flesh. “Oh yeah… Keep touching her, Paul. It only makes it better,” Kathy urged him on. “Touch her, talk to her,” Kathy suggested.

Her lips were red and swollen from being sucked on and bitten, and her nipples were hard and tight against her bikini top. It was a slow torturous death, but she had never wanted to die so badly in her life. Her clit was numb from the intensity of the vibrations, but with each rock, she felt them so deeply, she was stimulated in place she didn’t even know existed. She was using everything in her power to hold off her orgasm.

It. Was. Fucking. Fantastic.

“Holly…?” Mulder asked softly, rubbing his hands up her thighs. She shakily gasped, gripping his hands with her own. His touch was electric, and her skin felt like a live wire with each pass of his palms across her bare legs. “Do you want me to touch you?”

Her mouth hung open as she opened her eyes, heavy and hooded with desire. “Yesss… touch me,” she begged throatily, breathless in her arousal. He growled low in his throat and inched forward, closer to her.

His hands skimmed her thighs and she jerked and twitched with sensitivity. Her eyes remained on his, and she reached out to brace her hands on his shoulders, gripping his strong flesh tightly, balling it in her fists as she fought for control.

Touchmetouchmetouchmetouchmetouchme

Her brow was sweating with the exertion of keeping her orgasm at bay, desperate to feel his touch on her skin. Desperate to prolong it.

His eyes were dark and clouded with his own desire, and she watched as the muscles in his jaw twitched and his nostrils flared. His hair was wet and his skin golden from the sun. Fuck, he was beautiful.

“God… touch me,” she whimpered, her face screwing up into a tight grimace. “It’s too much,” she practically sobbed.

He reached up and cupped her face, and she nuzzled his palm, leaning forward to suck his thumb between her teeth. He moaned as her tongue swirled around the digit and couldn’t help the short thrust of his hips when she sucked it deeply into her mouth, her own eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“Fuck,” he groaned and she opened her eyes, her mouth slack with arousal. He pulled his thumb from her mouth, leaving a wet trail down her chin. 

She tilted her head to the side, her hips still rocking, searching for her pleasure. Her eyes bore into his and he saw feral desire in them, sparkling and bright beneath her heavy lids. Why wasn’t he touching her? She’d told him to, had given him permission. Not only would this go far in securing their spot for the next party, but fuck… SHE. ASKED. HIM. TO. TOUCH. HER.

She grabbed desperately at his hand, then lifted it, and without breaking eye contact, brought it to her chest, pushing her bikini top away so his palm could cover her bare breast. Her eyes fluttered, and she moaned when he took her nipple in the webbing of his thumb and forefinger, squeezing it, rolling it.

He grunted and sat tall on his knees, bringing his other hand to palm her other breast, pushing the material of her top aside. Her breasts were firm and round in his hands, and her nipples rolled and moved with her motions.

“Fuck yesss,” he hissed, his face inches from hers. Her hands covered his and pushed them into her flesh, helping him squeeze her breasts, pushing them to the center. He leaned down and pressed his lips to her cleavage, and her head dropped back.

She moaned loudly, “Oh, God!”

Her skin was flushed, sweat dripping down her neck and into the valley of her breasts.

“Don’t stop,” she breathed, and Mulder didn’t know whether she was talking to him or Kathy.  
“Yeah… keep going,” he urged, rolling her hardened nipples tightly between his fingers. “That’s it. Come for me.” His voice was rich and deep, and each syllable settled deep inside of her. Fuck, she could come just from his voice alone.

She cried out sharply, never breaking his gaze.

His breathing matched her own, and his jaw hung slack. She idly wondered if he wore the same expressions when he watched porn, and the thought of him stroking his hard cock did not help the agonizing ache in her clit. She was close. So close. Had been close for the last five minutes. The exertion from staving off her orgasm was overwhelming.

“Come for me,” he whispered, his warm breath tickling the skin of her face.

She cupped his cheeks, pulling him towards her. “Kiss me,” she pleaded, and in no time his mouth was on hers, his tongue hot and wet. He brought one hand from her breast to cup the back of her head, gripping her hair in his fist… And suddenly she was falling, shaking, coming so…fucking…hard…

She felt her internal walls convulse, rippling as the pleasure of her orgasm coursed through her, and she cried out into his mouth, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck, as her body jerked and writhed against him.

He enveloped her small frame, tightly holding her body to his as she rode her orgasm longer than he could have thought possible. With an exhausted groan, she finally sat tall on her knees, breaking the connection between her clit and the vibrations. He continued to hold her, moving his lips to her cheek, down her neck, where he nuzzled her with his lips.

“Jesus, Scully,” he breathed, her name like a prayer on his lips. God, what he had been missing all this time. He wanted to watch her do that every day for the rest of his life.

The residual shaking of her orgasm left her weak and slack, trembling in his arms. Her clit tingled with the left-over sensations, and she laughed into his neck. “Oh, my God,” she said, amazed, running her fingers through his hair as he held her.

Kathy lowered the knob on the machine. “Was I right?” she asked Holly. Scully nodded, turning her face into his neck.

She pulled back and looked at his face, her cheeks pink and pupils still dilated.

“You okay?” he asked softly, cupping her cheek with one hand. 

Her eyes met his as her breathing slowly returned to normal. His thumb rubbed against her temple, and she closed her eyes. “Wow,” she breathed. There were no words. With a small chuckle and a kiss to her forehead, he helped her to stand, leading her away from the group, as two women debated who got the next turn.


	6. Method Acting?

Previously on Undercover Swing…  
\----  
“Come for me,” he whispered, his warm breath tickling the skin of her face.

She cupped his cheeks, pulling him towards her. “Kiss me,” she pleaded, and in no time his mouth was on hers, his tongue hot and wet. He brought one hand from her breast to cup the back of her head, gripping her hair in his fist… And suddenly she was falling, shaking, coming so…fucking…hard…

She felt her internal walls convulse, rippling as the pleasure of her orgasm coursed through her, and she cried out into his mouth, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck, as her body jerked and writhed against him.

He enveloped her small frame, tightly holding her body to his as she rode her orgasm longer than he could have thought possible. With an exhausted groan, she finally sat tall on her knees, breaking the connection between her clit and the vibrations. He continued to hold her, moving his lips to her cheek, down her neck, where he nuzzled her with his lips.

“Jesus, Scully,” he breathed, her name like a prayer on his lips. God, what he had been missing all this time. He wanted to watch her do that every day for the rest of his life.

The residual shaking of her orgasm left her weak and slack, trembling in his arms. Her clit tingled with the left-over sensations, and she laughed into his neck. “Oh, my God,” she said, amazed, running her fingers through his hair as he held her.

Kathy lowered the knob on the machine. “Was I right?” she asked Holly. Scully nodded, turning her face into his neck.

She pulled back and looked at his face, her cheeks pink and pupils still dilated.

“You okay?” he asked softly, cupping her cheek with one hand. 

Her eyes met his as her breathing slowly returned to normal. His thumb rubbed against her temple, and she closed her eyes. “Wow,” she breathed. There were no words. With a small chuckle and a kiss to her forehead, he helped her to stand, leading her away from the group, as two women debated who got the next turn. 

 

\----  
“I’m next!” Kathy yelled. 

Scully stepped away from the machine, never letting go of Mulder’s hand, as he led her away from the crowd towards some semblance of privacy. She self-consciously adjusted the top of her bathing suit and brought a hand to her forehead, breathing slowly through her mouth. 

“You okay?” he asked again, closing the space between them and resting his hands on her hips, glancing over her shoulder back towards the crowd. It appeared their absence had gone unnoticed, the crowd too consumed now watching Kathy pleasure herself on the sybian. 

“Yeah, I’m fine…I just…,” she breathed, pausing momentarily before laughing uncomfortably. “That was intense… I… I’m not quite sure how I feel about it, to be honest,” she said, smiling at her feet, unable to meet his gaze. Her body still tingled with the remnants of her intense orgasm. 

He smiled, and tenderly swept his thumb across her cheek. “You were beautiful,” he whispered. She lifted her head slowly and met his eyes, her chest tightening with the sincerity of his words. She felt a blush blossom across her skin, spreading up her neck, and she bit her lip to keep from smiling. 

“I ah… I need to cool off,” she said, turning from him and walking towards the steps of the pool. He watched her walk, her hips gently swaying as she moved, and for as much as he knew their purpose at this party was to gather information, he couldn’t help his desire to stay with her, to spend the evening with her wrapped in his arms. His breath hitched in his throat, and he sighed shakily. Never before had he felt so torn between professional and personal – especially on a case. 

Any indecision he’d harbored was cast from his mind as he heard her call to him. “You coming in?” 

The water was refreshing and she sighed in pleasure as it cooled her sun-soaked, post-orgasmic skin. She lowered her head and swam underwater to the center of the pool, turning to face him as entered the pool behind her. He moved steadily towards her, a predator stalking its prey. Her belly burned with anticipation. He stopped ten feet in front of her, his eyes trained on her face. They floated in silence, waiting, neither willing to make the first move towards the other, although the precipice they’d waited seven years to cross seemed imminent.  
Finally, as the sun began to set behind her, he lifted his hand from the water, his eyes softening. "Come 'ere, Scully," he said, his voice low and deep.

There was her name, again. Her name. She had missed the sound of it on his lips. Her surname had never sounded so amazing, especially when uttered like that. She wanted to hear again. She wanted to hear it on his lips, whispered in her ear as his body moved above her. A shaky breath escaped through her mouth, and she bit her lip as desire prickled her skin.

She gasped at his forceful tug of her arm, draping it around his neck as he hugged her body close to him. He smiled ruefully upon seeing her arched eyebrow. "Didn't want you to drown," he whispered. She rolled her eyes, allowing him the indulgence of her proximity, and brought her legs up, wrapping them loosely around his waist. She gasped when his erection nudged the back of her thigh.

"Sorry," she breathed, ducking her chin, her cheeks burning in mortification. Her belly simmered with something else entirely though, something she couldn’t name, or admit, even to herself. 

"Why?" he asked, his voice deep and heady. "I'm not."

Her eyes lifted to meet his, and she saw desire there, raw desire… for her. She swallowed nervously, and her legs tightened around his hips, drawing him closer.

She pulled her lip between her teeth, worrying it as she fought for something to say. His body was warm, heated, his skin soft against her bare legs. She felt heat rush her core, and her heartbeat quickened in anticipation.

"Hi," she said, and immediately closed her eyes, shaking her head at her idiotic word choice. It seemed so contrite and wrong for the moment, but the truth was, it was perfect. This was them. They were reconnecting - Mulder and Scully. Not Holly and Paul.

He smiled, his hand lifting from the water to brush her wet strands behind her ear. It was something Mulder would do to Scully, and she closed her eyes, enjoying the small moment. "Hi," he returned, his voice soft, slightly cracking, as he looked upon her affectionately. 

She smiled softly and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging his body to hers in a tight hug. His chest vibrated with a moan, and her eyes fluttered closed when his fingers stroked her lower back, tracing small designs against her skin.

"What are you thinking?" she whispered into his neck. Her eyes scanned the patio, noting that the closest couple was well out of hearing range. They were alone. They could speak freely. 

He sighed, ducking his chin to nuzzle her shoulder with his nose. She hissed a short breath when she felt his lips press into the soft skin where her neck met her shoulder. "I'm thinking...," he whispered, pausing to kiss her again, "How much I've missed you." He took a deep breath and sighed, the hot air from his lungs blowing against the chilled skin of her neck.

"You've missed me? But we haven’t been apart for this entire case…" she questioned. She pulled back to face him, her eyebrows knitted in confusion. Her hands threaded through the soft hair at the nape of his neck, and he shivered slightly as her fingernails danced against his scalp.  
He closed his eyes, licking his lips. “I’ve missed you, Scully" he whispered. He opened his eyes to meet hers again.

He didn't need to explain it to her. She knew, because she felt it too. She understood. This case was consuming – of their thoughts, their actions, their identities. He missed HER. He missed Scully, his partner, his best friend. Under the stress of the case, behind the disguise of Holly, he’d only seen small glimpses of the woman he knew and loved, but he’d seen her. Dana. 

"Do you know…? Do you know how sexy you are?" he asked, and her hands left his head, coming to rest on his chest.

"Mulder" she murmured, her brows pinched, a blush creeping up her cheeks. His gaze was intense, and she looked down, swallowing thickly under his scrutiny.

"I mean it," he said, tightening his hold on her so as not to allow her escape. He needed to say this to her.

"Stop," she whispered. "This is a case. We both know that. What you've seen has been --"

"It's been YOU," he adamantly spoke.

She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could come up with a retort, he continued on. "I know this hasn't been easy. It certainly isn't as easy as it looks. But I know what I've seen."

"Mulder," she whispered, turning her face from him.

"Look at me, Scully," he said gently, and she faced him, her heart pounding rapidly in her chest. The skin on her neck prickled. "I've known you for seven years. Do you really believe that I can't see the REAL you, even if you don't want me to, even when you think I don't notice?"

Her eyes filled with tears at the intimacy of his words, and she blinked rapidly, hoping he wouldn't notice her embarrassing display of emotion.  
Ed Jerse… Phillip Padget… She’s sought these men out in bouts of loneliness, when she was desperate for human connection. She’d been flattered by their attentions, flattered they’d seen her as a woman, and not just as an FBI agent. But the attraction of the man she’d most desired had always been left unspoken, unfulfilled. Until now… 

He closed his eyes and sighed, whispering softly, "Sometimes I wish you could see yourself through my eyes."

She felt like her world was spinning around her, the walls closing it. Her eyes still brimmed with tears, and she was grateful for the darkening sky for keeping her traitorous emotions hidden.

"Tell me," she breathed, and her fingers trailed through his hair once again, eliciting a small moan from his lips.

She loved the feel of the water on her skin, how it surrounded the two of them, how the weight and pressure of the liquid pressed their bodies closer and closer. The lights in the pool illuminated them as darkness befell their features.

"Don't you realize how sexy you are?" he asked again, his hands skimming across her soft thighs, his thumbs edging closer to her hips with every upstroke. She squirmed restlessly.

"Am I?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

He barked a short laugh, shaking his head in exasperation. "Are you serious?"

"What? Mulder, you can't possibly think that what happened...," she said, gesturing to the corner where Jessie was now taking her turn with the Sybian. Scully’s eyes widened as she caught a glimpse of the woman on the machine. Her body arched forward, soft moans escaping her lips, as her husband caressed and kissed her. Mulder noticed her eyes on the scene, and he turned their bodies so they could both see. 

Her eyes blinked rapidly, and she licked her lips, feeling self-conscious for being caught watching the sexual games. His nose pressed against her cheek. “Look at her, Scully,” he whispered. She nodded gently, unconsciously gripping his hair harder between her fingers as Jessie’s moans grew louder. He pressed his lips to her ear, and she shivered. “Do you think it’s sexy…, what she’s doing?” he asked. 

She sucked in a breath and swallowed convulsively. “She’s a beautiful woman, Mulder,” she answered diplomatically. 

He smiled, and turned his face again to watch. “No…, what I mean is… Imagine a woman, a woman who is reserved, modest. We don’t know Jessie. Jessie could be a kindergarten teacher at Catholic primary school for all we know. But here… Here, she’s letting herself go…,” his voice trailed off. He pressed his lips to the tender skin below her ear, and she gasped, fresh arousal seeping from her center. “It’s wild, Scully…, feral, even,” he continued, his hot breath tickling the inside of her ear, making her eyelids flutter. 

“She’s…,” she breathed, licking her suddenly dry lips, “She’s allowing herself to feel…, to lose control.” He watched as realization dawned in her eyes, and she turned to meet his face. 

“Exactly,” he breathed, his eyes darting between her mouth and her eyes. “That’s what I saw today, Scully. I saw YOU… YOU at your basest level; stripped raw and bare…, yet still the strongest woman I’ll ever know. And it was exquisite.” She lowered her gaze, shame creeping across her chest. He lifted her chin with his fingers, shaking his head. “I saw YOU, Scully…, something you have never shown me before.” His voice was soft, reverent. “I know how hard that must have been for you. Thank you for letting me see it,” he said softly, rubbing her legs with his hands. 

She looked up, smiling at his words, “So, watching me up there was sexy?” she asked. 

Mulder shook his head. "No. That's not what I meant. Though...," he said, inching his fingers closer to the line of her bikini bottoms. Her breathing grew shaky. His voice was low when he continued, "You WERE pretty hot… Pretty fucking hot, actually," he finished with a smile.

She blushed and ducked her chin, biting her lip. "See?" he said, pointing at her mouth. "That. Every time you bite you lip I get hard," he said. 

She gasped at his admission, heat rising in her cheeks. His eyes locked on her mouth, glazing over. She couldn't help but lick her lips, and she felt his cock twitch against her bottom. “I don’t even think you realize what you do to me…,”he moaned.

“Wha—What do I do to you?” 

"I see you bite that lip throughout the day…, and each time you do, all I can...," he trailed off with a longing sigh, "All I want to do is kiss you, and feel that lip between my own teeth. Every. Damn. Time," he finished, finally raising his eyes to hers. 

Her chest rose and fell from the water with increasing speed. The desire in his voice overwhelmed her, and her clit pinged with arousal, engorging, aching with each admission from his lips. 

"What’s stopping you?" she asked softly, biting her lip in challenge.

Mulder growled low in his throat, then pressed her body roughly against his and closed his mouth against her lips.

\----  
She teased him, opening her mouth over his lips, and gently stroking his lip with her tongue, never fully pressing her mouth to his. He whimpered as her tongue dragged along his bottom lip, wetting it, gliding against it with the hot wet flesh of her tongue.

She sucked in a shaky gasp when she felt his tongue against her own, toying, playing with it as though it was the first time. In many ways, this WAS the first time… She tilted her head to the side, fully closing her lips over his as they deepened the kiss. Wrapping her arms and legs around his body, she pulled him as close to her as humanly possible. 

He moaned low into her mouth when her center ground against his cock, and his hands gripped her ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh.

She whimpered, and gripped the back of his neck as his hands skimmed beneath her bikini bottoms to better touch her. Thrusting her hips against him, she broke the kiss. "Oh, God," she moaned softly as she felt the full length of his erection press against her. How easy it would be to pull it free from his shorts, pull her bikini to the side and let him rock into her, she thought. "Jesus...," she breathed, closing her eyes and licking her lips as her hips writhed and moved against him, needing to feel him, unable to stop herself from the flood of arousal coursed through her body.

He hissed, quickly pushing her to the side of the pool and pressing against her.

His eyes were dark with desire and his skin glowed in the nighttime lighting of the pool and patio. Her own eyes were hooded, and she crossed her ankles behind his back, arching her hips to him again. His eyes closed briefly as the feeling of her washed over him. Fuck, he could feel the heat coming from her sex, burning his cock through layers of material and cool water.

He trailed kisses across her cheek, and down her neck, loving how she gasped and shuddered when his teeth bit gently into her skin. She snorted, and rolled her head to the back, allowing it to rest on the ledge of the pool so his mouth could gain greater access. "Holly and Paul are quite the couple aren't they?" she said smiling. Her voice was heavy, thick with her arousal. He lifted his face from her neck, nuzzling her cheek with his nose. He didn't want to stop. He never wanted to stop.

"What do you mean?" he asked softly. His hands roam up her sides, and she jerked into them, her flesh sensitive and nerve-endings frayed. She rocked her hips into his erection and she whimpered when her clit grazed his hard length. "I just mean...fuck...," she breathed, her clit aching with increasing intensity. "I just mean they're the type of couple…, who…who fuck in a pool…, at a party no less."

He bent down and kissed her clavicle, and she whimpered when his tongue traced the outline of the bone. "So… What’s the problem?” he asked into her skin, his hands skimming lower to grip her ass. 

She turned her lips to his ear, whispering, "I just mean... Is Mulder the type of man to fuck a woman in a pool, at a party?"

"Does Scully WANT Mulder to fuck her in the pool, right here, right now?" he asked headily, arousal evident in his voice. “Because if she does, he’d give her anything she wants…,” he finished, his voice growing softer. 

She closed her eyes and shivered with the implication of his words.

"I don’t think Scully knows what she wants…,” she whispered, smiling at the irony of it. “She doesn’t?” he pressed her. 

“I think Scully is very unsure of a lot of things at the moment. She’s feeling a lot of…emotions…, and she’s not entirely sure what to make of it,” she whispered, hugging him tightly. He pressed his face into her neck. She just wanted to stay there, stay in that moment, with her legs around him and her arms around him – completely enmeshed with him. 

A part of her wanted to go home, run back to the solitude and the organization of her lonely life. But another part of her wanted to stay, wanted to explore whatever the fuck was happening between them. Because SOMETHING was happening… And they both knew it. 

“I just…SHE…is feeling very conflicted… Maybe the alcohol is affecting her, dulling her senses…,” she mused. 

“Maybe.” He kissed the side of her neck, and her eyes fluttered. 

“Maybe, she got too much sun, and it’s… she’s suffering from a little heat stroke…”

“Maybe,” he quietly whispered. His tongue stroked her sun-kissed shoulders, and she whimpered low in her throat. 

“Maybe she…,” she trailed off, feeling her throat constrict. He pulled his head back and met her eyes. 

His voice was soft when he spoke. “Have you had too much to drink?” She bit her lip and shook her head. She knew her body. The alcohol may have given her a little liquid courage to face her trepidations, but she was hardly so inebriated that she couldn’t make healthy decisions. 

He brushed his thumb over her forehead, brushing a stray hair from her face. “You don’t look burnt… Do you think you have sun stroke?” he asked softly, rubbing her shoulders, now sprinkled with delicate freckles. Again, she shook her head in the negative. 

“Then what?” he whispered, lifting his eyes to her. She shrugged, unable to speak through the sudden emotion clogging her throat. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth nervously.  
Maybe it wasn’t the sun or the cocktails. Maybe it was the fact that she wasn’t Holly, and she had nothing to hide behind anymore. SHE, Dana Scully, wanted this. Wanted him. And without something to blame her desire on, she felt exposed. She felt raw. 

Looking into her eyes, he could sense she was holding back. But he knew when she was ready she would share. It had to be on her time. Nodding with empathy, he pressed a chaste kiss to her temple. 

"Well… Mulder has a few ideas, if you would like to hear them,” he said after a few moments. He felt her nod against his shoulder. “Mulder would prefer to make love to Scully in a bed...where he could take his time," he said, breaking his sentence to kiss her neck.

"Exploring her..." He kissed her shoulder. Her eyes slipped shut, his day-old stubble tickling her sensitive skin. 

"Kissing her..." His tongue circled around her earlobe, and she whimpered, biting her bottom lip.  
"Loving her..." He said finally, sliding his hands up her sides to the undersides of her breasts. She moaned into his neck, grinding her core against his cock. He hissed against her skin.

"God, Mulder." She sighed, shivering as his thumbs cautiously stroked along the fabric over her breasts, looking into her eyes to make sure his touch was welcomed. His fingers made her skin quiver, his touch so close to where she desired his hands to be and yet so far out of reach. It was maddening. She felt herself gush and pushed her breasts into his hands, her hardened nipples grazing his palms. 

"Mulder doesn’t want the first time he makes love to her be in a POOL," he whispered, and she nuzzled his neck with her nose, feeling her heart swell with the intensity of the moment. 

"He wants to make love to her?" she asked slowly, softly, needing to be absolutely sure she was hearing him right.

"Every moment of every day… So much it pains him sometimes," he whispered, kissing her temple.

Gooseflesh coursed down her arms and legs as his hands cupped her breasts, massaging and kneading them while they floated in the water. Her nipples stood proud, erect, and the feeling of the water tickling her sensitive flesh added an additional element of arousal.

“Mmm… Why…, “she licked her lips, starting again. “Why hasn’t Mulder told Scully any of this?” she asked breathlessly. 

He sighed roughly, watching his hands move over her body. “Because he thinks he could never be good enough for her… Because he knows for as happy as she would make him,” he said, wincing as he continued, “He is terrified that he would hurt her.” He met her eyes. “And he would rather die than hurt her. She means too much to him.” 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his jaw. She had no words to say. They held each other wordlessly for a few moments, tightly consumed in the embrace of the other.  
“Probably best if they don’t do anything on a case though,” Scully whispered. 

He turned his face into her neck and groaned in frustration, sighing deeply as he took his hands from her breasts. “Yeah… Probably best,” he agreed begrudgingly, pulling her tightly against him, not wanting the moment to end. She was right though – it was probably best if they didn’t do anything rash. He certainly didn’t want her to regret anything that happened between them, and if he was being honest with himself, he really DID want to make love to her in a bed slowly, taking his time, learning her, devouring her. If he turned her around and fucked her up against the wall of this pool, it wouldn’t be fair to her…to them. They deserved better. But he couldn’t stop the image of his teeth sunk into her shoulder as his cock moved in and out of her. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist as her fingers worked quickly between her legs. 

He felt himself harden, and moved his hands across the tiny expanse of her back, trailing his fingernails across her skin. She shivered, pressing her core into his belly as a soft moan escaped her lips. Fuck, she wanted him. She swallowed the growl that threatened to slip from her lips. Not on a case, not on a case, her mind kept telling her.

He lifted his face from her body, and kissed her cheek, nuzzling her temple with his nose. “Is Scully okay with kissing?” he asked, letting his hands dip low on her waist, edging the elastic of her bikini bottom. His fingers left hot trails on her skin, and she squirmed in his arms. 

She lifted her face to his, cupping his cheek. “Yes… She ah… She wants Mulder to kiss her,” she whispered, eyeing his lips. She wanted Mulder kiss her, consume her, hold her, fuck her. But she could settle for a kiss. Yes, she could. She could. Right? Just kissing. Nothing more. Kissing was okay. She could do this.

He leaned forward and opened his mouth over hers, moaning into the kiss. The heat between their bodies seared her skin, and she whimpered when his hand skimmed lower, gripping the flesh of her ass in his hand. She pulled away from the kiss, breathless. God, yes. She rested her forehead against his, and cupped his face with her hands. 

Her hand moved down between their bodies, and she gasped when it came into contact with his cock, thick and obscenely hard. He moaned low in his throat, his eyes blazing in warning. “Jesus…,” he seethed. “I’m a little uhm… today’s been…,” he stammered, wincing as he gripped her hips in his hands, stilling her movements. He pushed her away from his body. “God…if we aren’t going to move forward, we have to stop,” he breathed, distress written all over his face. He was physically shaking with the taxing effort it took to control his desire. 

“Are you okay?” she asked, concerned as he winced, crouching in the water. 

“Just give me a minute here…mmmm,” he groaned. He didn’t look at her when he spoke. “I’m gonna uh… I have to use the bathroom,” he said softly, turning to swim towards the steps. 

She reached for his arm, stopping his movement, and closed the space between them. When she reached for the ties on his shorts, he sternly covered her hands in warning. “I’ll be right back. I just need to uh…,” he started, his eyes pleading with her to take pity on him. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he growled low in his throat, closing his eyes. His arms sat limply beside him, needing distance between them to lessen the burden of his granite-hard erection. His stomach rippled, and his breath hitched, when he felt her hand sweep down between them, reaching into his board shorts. 

Sexual desire won over, and he pressed her into the side of the pool again, groaning into her neck. “Scully….,” he practically sobbed as her hand closed around his thick length. 

She turned her face into his neck. “Shhhh, let me. You helped me… when I couldn’t take it anymore either…,” she whispered. “The least I can do is repay the favor,” she said huskily into his ear. “Let me… I want to,” she whispered. He groaned out loud, holding her body tightly to his. 

Their breaths mingled in the night air, their lips gently grazing against one another’s as her hand began to slowly move up and down his erection. He hissed between his teeth, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth. “Mmmm, fuck…,” he groaned softly. One hand wove into her hair, gripping the back of her head with such force, she almost wanted to cry out in pain. The feeling of his cock in her hand— velvety softness sheathed over steal-like hardness— made her body shake with desire. 

His other hand moved between them, dipping between her legs to tentatively touch her over her bikini bottoms. She gasped into his mouth, arching her hips into his hands. Their lips met as their hands dueled for space, his inching slowly into her bathing suit, and hers stroking and pumping his cock, finally relieving him of the day’s pent up desires. She whimpered into his mouth, her tongue swiping along his bottom lip. He moved his face and groaned into her neck. “Christ…” he breathed, thrusting his hips as her finger swiped at the sensitive flesh of his head. 

She licked her lips, dropping her head to his shoulder. Fuck, he felt good in her hand. Her other hand held tightly to the back of his neck, gripping his flesh with an intensity she didn’t know she possessed. When she felt him thrust into her hands, she moaned, biting gently at his shoulder, tasting the salt and chlorine of his skin on her tongue. 

“I thought…uhngh,” he panted. “I thought you said no sex…on a case.” His husky voiced panted in her ear, and she quivered, gripping him more firmly, stoking his length. She lifted her head to see him. 

“This isn’t sex,” she breathed, her heavy eyes peering at him through desire-laden lids. “Not between Mulder and Scully, anyway…”

Her hand moved in earnest, needing…wanting to see him lose control. Secondary thoughts about the cleanliness of ejaculating into the water crossed her mind, but she reminded herself that this pool had likely seen a multitude of sins. 

The intensity of his gaze sent a jolt of arousal to her sex, and she rocked her hips against his still hand. He kept his eyes focused on her as his fingers inched, walking themselves inside the elastic of her bathing suit. Her body shuddered against his touch, and she tensed in anticipation of feeling his hands on her bare flesh. 

She gasped, whimpering loudly when she felt his finger expertly enter her, the heel of his hand pressing deliciously against her clit. She shuddered, involuntarily thrusting her hips against it, her brows furrowed with intense concentration. “Oh, my god,” she whimpered, closing her eyes.  
“So, if this isn’t sex, then what is it?” he asked, huskily panting against her lips. She rocked her hips against his hand, moaning in her throat when her clit grazed the thick flesh of his palm. “I don’t… I don’t give a fuck what it is…but if you stop, I’ll kill you,” she breathed, her teeth clamping down on his bottom lip. 

She continued to work her hand over and around him, his heavy breathing against her neck making her skin prickle with goose flesh. “God…,” he moaned, feeling his balls tighten. 

As his fingers worked inside her, pulling and pulsing against her front wall, she knew she was done in for. Each press against her slickened flesh drew her higher and higher, winding her so tightly, she knew she would crumble. 

She turned her face into his neck, desperate for release, whimpering as her internal muscles continued to clench around him. “Oh, god…,” she cried softly into his shoulder, rocking her hips in time with his own. With a final stroke against his length, she felt him harden exponentially, his body shuddering against her. His pained cry was muffled by the flesh of her neck. She milked him through the finality of his release, kissing his neck softly. 

She lifted her hand from his shorts, and gripped his wrist tightly and removing his hand. If she had to have one more orgasm without him inside of her she was going to scream. This was ridiculous. He opened his eyes and looked at her, concern evident on his face. Why was she stopping? He knew she was close, so close her legs were trembling against his hips. 

She closed her eyes, steadily working to control her breathing. “What if…,” she started, “we… had sex,” she finished, swallowing thickly as she met his eyes. When he didn’t say anything, she continued. “We still have the final party, right? A party where,” she paused, her body shivering with the neglected arousal coursing through her veins, “people will have sex, right?” 

His eyes narrowed. “Right…?” he agreed slowly, unsure of where the conversation was going. “But I thought you said…,” he trailed off, and she shook her head. 

“No, hear me out,” she said, licking her lips and breathing slowly through her mouth. 

“Holly and Paul are presumably very in tune with each other’s bodies, right? I mean, being married and all.” 

“I would certainly hope so.”

“So, wouldn’t it be prudent…as investigators…that we become familiar with one another…in that way?” Her words were slow, carefully chosen. The truth was she wanted to fuck him. And if it was easier under the guise of Holly and Paul then so be it. 

Considering her words, a small smile grew on his lips. “Yeah… I mean… I would hate for the case to be blown because we fumbled the ball, so to speak.” 

Her chin lifted and she met his eyes with an arched eyebrow. “I would never fumble the ball in bed, Mulder,” she said pointedly, keeping her voice low and controlled. 

“Well, that remains to be proven,” he mocked, smiling at her indignation. 

Her eyes narrowed, and she arched her brow. “Regardless, Holly and Paul are used to each other’s bodies.” She pressed her cheek against his, turning her lips into his ear. “Holly and Paul might be great together in bed,” she whispered, letting her tongue gently taste the skin of his face. He shivered, gripping her hips in his hands again. 

Her own arousal hadn’t abated, and she thrust her hips against his stomach, hoping to relieve some of the ache that dwelled deeply inside of her. The rumble of a groan in his throat brought her face to his. “So, what do you think Agent Mulder?” she said, her voice low and deep. The arousal in his eyes matched her own, and he pulled her hips against the new evidence of his desire. Her eyes fluttered, and she bit her lip. She was getting to a point of no return, and she really didn’t want to have to beg him. 

She pressed her lips to his softly, gently toying with his thick bottom lip. “Do you think it would be prudent for us, as investigators, to research and learn everything possible about the roles we are playing, including the sexual desires of said roles?”

He bent low, pressing his mouth against her collarbone. “Mmmm… Like method acting,” he moaned, considering her proposal. “We certainly don’t want to stand out…”

He licked his way up her neck, sucking the soft flesh between his lips. She moaned. The feeling of his tongue working on her neck made her nipples ache. She reached between them, rubbing her breast, trying to ease some of the longing. 

Whispering against her skin, he asked, “What kind of lover is Paul?” 

She paused at his question, her head swimming with desire so intense she could literally taste it in her mouth. What kind of lover was Paul? What kind of lover did she want Paul to be…? She pictured Mulder as a lover, pictured his hands on her, his body covering hers. What kind of lover would Mulder be? Would he be gentle and sweet, tenderly kissing and stroking her skin? Or, hard and fast - dominant as he pounded into her again and again…? Oh God. Her clit throbbed at the thought. 

“He’s uh… he’s strong…, forceful but respectful,” she whispered, her breathing growing more rapid by the second. God, she needed him, wanted him. 

“Does she like it when he’s forceful? Or does she like it when he’s tender?” he asked softly, trailing kisses across her chest. 

“Both,” she breathed, running her fingers through her hair. 

She felt him smile against her skin, and she moved her hips, arching and thrusting them to meet his cock, desperate for stimulation on her clit. 

He moved his face up her neck, finally reaching her mouth, where he kissed her passionately. His tongue roamed her mouth and the inside of her cheeks, before pulling back and dragging her lip between his teeth. Her eyes were heavy, laden with desire, and it made his cock twitch. Jesus, she was gorgeous. 

“What kind of lover is Holly?” she asked breathlessly.

The corner of his mouth lifted as he thought of only one word. “Uninhibited.” 

Her mouth slackened, and a shaky breath escaped. 

He watched her for a couple of moments, lost in the beauty of an aroused Dana Scully. “So, Agent Scully… tell me what happens next.” His fingers trailed down her chest, lingering just outside the border of her top. Her skin flushed under his eyes, and he sucked in a breath forcefully. 

“I think we should further our investigation…,” she said, pressing her lips to his in a chaste kiss, “back at the apartment.” She kissed him again, moaning when his tongue darted out to touch her lips. 

“In the name of research?” he asked as his mouth rooted for hers. 

She nodded, and unwrapped her legs from his waist. She swam to the pool’s edge, pushing herself out of the water. He wiped his face with his hands, his skin flushed and warm even under the night sky. 

As she toweled off her body, his stomach was suddenly ablaze with desire. 

He and Scully were going to fuck. All in the name of research, of course. 

Research sex. 

It was fitting. Only he and Scully would use the excuse of research, of science, of finding the truth, to fuck. Jesus, they were fucked up. But he didn’t care…. 

Because in about twenty minutes, he was going to be inside of her. 

Thank fucking God.


	7. Masquerade

Previously on Undercover Swing…

She pressed her lips to his softly, gently toying with his thick bottom lip. “Do you think it would be prudent for us, as investigators, to research and learn everything possible about the roles we are playing, including the sexual desires of said roles?”

He bent low, pressing his mouth against her collarbone. “Mmmm… Like method acting,” he moaned, considering her proposal. “We certainly don’t want to stand out…”

He licked his way up her neck, sucking the soft flesh between his lips. She moaned. The feeling of his tongue working on her neck made her nipples ache. She reached between them, rubbing her breast, trying to ease some of the longing.

Whispering against her skin, he asked, “What kind of lover is Paul?”

She paused at his question, her head swimming with desire so intense she could literally taste it in her mouth. What kind of lover was Paul? What kind of lover did she want Paul to be…? She pictured Mulder as a lover, pictured his hands on her, his body covering hers. What kind of lover would Mulder be? Would he be gentle and sweet, tenderly kissing and stroking her skin? Or, hard and fast - dominant as he pounded into her again and again…? Oh God. Her clit throbbed at the thought.

“He’s uh… he’s strong…, forceful but respectful,” she whispered, her breathing growing more rapid by the second. God, she needed him, wanted him.

“Does she like it when he’s forceful? Or does she like it when he’s tender?” he asked softly, trailing kisses across her chest.

“Both,” she breathed, running her fingers through her hair.

She felt him smile against her skin, and she moved her hips, arching and thrusting them to meet his cock, desperate for stimulation on her clit.

He moved his face up her neck, finally reaching her mouth, where he kissed her passionately. His tongue roamed her mouth and the inside of her cheeks, before pulling back and dragging her lip between his teeth. Her eyes were heavy, laden with desire, and it made his cock twitch. Jesus, she was gorgeous.

“What kind of lover is Holly?” she asked breathlessly.

The corner of his mouth lifted as he thought of only one word. “Uninhibited.”

Her mouth slackened, and a shaky breath escaped.

He watched her for a couple of moments, lost in the beauty of an aroused Dana Scully. “So, Agent Scully… tell me what happens next.” His fingers trailed down her chest, lingering just outside the border of her top. Her skin flushed under his eyes, and he sucked in a breath forcefully.

“I think we should further our investigation…,” she said, pressing her lips to his in a chaste kiss, “back at the apartment.” She kissed him again, moaning when his tongue darted out to touch her lips.

“In the name of research?” he asked as his mouth rooted for hers.

She nodded, and unwrapped her legs from his waist. She swam to the pool’s edge, pushing herself out of the water. He wiped his face with his hands, his skin flushed and warm even under the night sky.

As she toweled off her body, his stomach was suddenly ablaze with desire.

He and Scully were going to fuck. All in the name of research, of course.

Research sex.

It was fitting. Only he and Scully would use the excuse of research, of science, of finding the truth, to fuck. Jesus, they were fucked up. But he didn’t care….

Because in about twenty minutes, he was going to be inside of her.

Thank fucking God.

\-----------

Chapter 7: Masquerade

Her hands shook as she packed her tote with their belongings, cramming towels, sunscreen and sunglasses into the large bag before slinging it over her shoulder impatiently. Mulder smirked at her hasty approach, knowing how methodically she usually liked to pack. Even her handbag was well-organized and clear of clutter, so it was interesting (to say the least) that she would be frazzled enough to simply throw their contents into the bag, not caring whether the towels were folded properly or sunscreen lids secured. He donned his shirt, grabbing his towel before running his fingers through his hair to smooth his disheveled appearance. 

She sucked on her lower lip, nervously worrying the soft flesh between her teeth. Her stomach fluttered in anticipation, and her skin prickled with awareness of his proximity. She couldn’t shake the images in her mind, and she felt heat creep up her chest, flushing her skin. 

Research sex. 

That’s all this was. Right? Just a man and a woman ‘investigating’ a case. Yeah. That’s EXACTLY what this was: *investigating*. 

Jesus, why couldn’t she just admit to him that she simply wanted to fuck? That she *needed* it? Two days of Mulder touching her had taken its toll, and she could no longer deny it.

She felt herself flush from her ears to her toes.

Her eyelids fluttered when his finger touched her chest. “You got some sun today… You’re a little pink,” he said. Yeah. Blame it on the sun… Don’t admit that you’re horny as hell that you need him inside you so badly, you’re willing to throw away everything in your partnership just to have him. 

And if she had to use the excuse of the case to do it, then so be it. Holly and Paul will cease to exist when the case is over, but Mulder and Scully won’t. It’s safer this way—for their partnership, for their friendship, and for their hearts. 

She walked quickly ahead of him to the car, pausing as he unlocked the doors. She wanted to get back to their apartment as quickly as possible, before she lost her resolve. However, before she could open the door, he pressed behind her, planting his hand firmly on the glass. “Hold on,” he said. She gasped, and her nipples tightened as she felt his hips press into her back. 

She turned quickly to face him, finding his chest inches from her nose. His arms braced the side of her head, and he bent down to her eye level. “Before we get in that car, I need us to be absolutely sure here,” he said softly. God, could he read her mind?

She lifted her chin to meet his eyes, and felt her stomach lurch into her throat. Swallowing convulsively, she looked down to his mouth. Her lips tingled with the desire to kiss him. 

“Sure about what?” she asked, blinking rapidly as she raised her eyes back up to his. 

He pressed into her, pushing her against the car door. She remembered the last time he had done this, their first day on the case, and it made her clit ache. He moved a hand down to her shoulder, trailing it down her arm where he held her hand in his. “What exactly is going to happen here, Scully? 

Lifting her eyes back to him, she placed her free hand on his chest. She let her hand trail down his sternum, feeling the hard muscles twitch beneath her palm. It felt thrilling to be so bold, to behave as Dana Scully would never behave. Truth be told, maybe she enjoyed playing this role. Who was Holly, anyway? Holly was anyone Scully decided to make her. And that concept was a thrilling one.

“Well,” she began, stopping the progression of her hand at the waistband of his shorts. She watched his adam’s apple bob as her fingers toyed with the drawstring. “We have roles to play..., and I think…,” she trailed off, letting her fingernails lightly scrape at the patch of hair under his belly button, “that perhaps it would be prudent of us— for the sake of the case, of course— to discover just who Holly and Paul are together…”

He nodded, lowering his chin. Their mouths were inches apart, and his cock twitched when her tongue darted out to lick her lips. “You mean sexually?” he asked, his voice raspy. 

He let go of her hand and brought his to her hip, where his thumb drew circles into her bone. Her skin burned at his touch, and she lifted her chin silently, desperate for his lips to touch hers, to ease the ache.   
“So are we Holly and Paul tonight?” he asked, having difficulty forming a coherent sentence with his cock pressed into her hip. She lifted up, pressing her lips against his neck. Her fingers worked just inside the waistband of his shorts, and he growled, pressing further against her. 

“In the name of research, remember?” she said, pressing her lips to his pulse point, feeling the rapid thud thud against her tongue. 

He nodded and closed his eyes, thrusting his erection gently. “Mmm… I wonder what they’re like together,” he said softly, letting his hand roam low, his fingers leaving a trail of electricity down her thigh. She gasped into his neck, her arousal so intense, she considered making him fuck her right there – right up against the car. Is that something Holly would do? 

She whimpered into his skin, her clit aching beyond the point of simple pleasure. She couldn’t deny the fact that being someone else was exciting in a way she hadn’t thought possible. This was her opportunity to explore parts of herself, parts of her sexuality, that have been unfulfilled for years, perhaps forever. Under the identity of Holly, she could do things that Dana Scully would never even consider doing. 

Pulling her face from his neck, she looked up at him. “Holly and Paul, tonight,” she confirmed. Her voice was thick, heavy, and she licked her bottom lip, pulling it between her teeth then letting it slide out slowly. He growled low in his throat. There was that damn lip again. He couldn’t take it anymore, and he pressed back into her, capturing her mouth in a fierce kiss. 

She moaned as their tongues immediately met, clashing for dominance. The heat of his body seared her skin, and she wrapped her leg around his hip, drawing him even closer. His hand drifted up her thigh, gripping the flesh of her ass as he sucked on her bottom lip, his tongue stroking the soft flesh inside her mouth. She whimpered, and thrust her hips against him when his fingers slipped beneath the fabric of her bottoms, lightly running his middle finger between her dripping, swollen flesh. 

Fuck, she was so wet. He pressed his finger deeper, feeling her overwhelming heat as he kept up the slow, tortuous touch. He thrust his hips against her, and moaned when she did the same, the movement making his finger slip fully inside of her. Her walls clenched around him, and he groaned into her neck, sucking on the sweet flesh. She rocked her hips, whimpering in frustration.   
“You think…mmmm,” she said, pulling her lips from his. “You think they like…,” she trailed off. The feeling of his teeth nipping against her neck made her gasp. 

“Fucking in public?” he finished, mumbling into her neck. She chuckled, thrusting her hips against his hand. She reached between them, fumbling with the tie to his shorts, needing him inside of her so badly, she didn’t care who saw or walked by. 

Taking every last ounce of strength he could muster, he pulled her hand away, gripping her wrist tightly. He dropped his head to her shoulder. 

“I just… unngh… I ah… We probably shouldn’t fuck against the car door...” His breath was ragged, heavy. “Would look…pretty bad…if we got arrested…for public indecency.” He smiled into her neck, and shivered when her breath tickled his ear. 

“Then take me home where we can fuck in private.” Even she was shocked by the audacity of her words, and yet, she was beginning to like how emboldened Holly seemed to be. Her nipples tightened to turgid peaks, and she whimpered as he walked quickly to his side of the door. 

The car was ablaze with their energy, and their hands touched whatever skin they could find. His stroked up the length of her bare thigh, and her muscles quivered beneath him. Hers rubbed his forearm, and pressed it even deeper into her flesh. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, and he tensed his jaw as he restrained himself from trailing his hand further up her leg— up to where he knew she would be hot and wet and ready for him. His cock was straining, and he shifted in the seat, groaning as he let go of the wheel for a moment in order to palm it over the material. Just a few more minutes, he told himself, only a few more minutes. 

She looked over at him, and saw his eyes sparkling in the passing lights. She looked between his lap and his face, and smiled mischievously. Lifting her eyebrow, she undid her seat belt and leaned over the console. He jumped when he felt her hands on his erection. 

“Scully…what?!” he said, hissing as her hand stroked his cock over the synthetic material. 

“Shhhh,” she soothed, pulling it free from its confines. “And, it’s not Scully,” she said softly, gripping his member and stroking him from base to tip. “It’s Holly." 

He gasped, fighting to keep his eyes open and focused on the road, as he felt her hot mouth close around him, her tongue circling around his head. “We can’t…,” he breathed, groaning as arousal coursed through him. “What if… if we get caught?” he pleaded. He could see the headlines now, ‘Undercover FBI Agents Arrested for Public Indecency Following Oral Sex Encounter in Car.’ 

She lifted her head from his lap, her tiny hand gliding up and down his hardened length, then smiled naughtily. “Then don’t get caught, Paul.” 

Her words went straight to his cock, and he pushed his head back into the headrest. 

“Jesus… Fuck…,” he seethed, gripping the steering wheel tightly with both hands. His head was swimming. Scully was giving him a blow job… in a car… Her lips moved up and down his shaft with expert precision, her teeth gently grazing the girth of him as he swelled inside her mouth. She hummed around him, and he moaned, his eyes fluttering. 

“Scully…,” he breathed, but he quickly yelped as her teeth not-so-gently nipped him. “Sorry, sorry. HOLLY,” he panted. “Fuck…,” he groaned. “Holly…,” he said again, rolling the name across his tongue, sighing as let the sensation of her mouth around him take over. 

He wasn’t going to last long, he knew it. It felt too damn good, and he had waited so long to feel it. Fuck, she gave great head. He didn’t want to know where she had learned how, or on WHOM she had learned, but he was grateful nonetheless. So far, he was digging Holly, whoever she was. Holly was lustful, wanton, not afraid to show her desire. Was this who Scully was deep down? Under her armor, was THIS Dana? Knowing she would never do anything she truly felt uncomfortable with, he had to think that this was her, in some sense. Holly or not, Scully was capable of this. 

His cock jolted as desire shot through him. He involuntarily jerked his hips, and her mouth moved quickly up and down, sucking his head so perfectly, he felt it in his eyeballs. Jesus…

“Sc—uhm… Holly,” he warned, tenderly covering her head with his hand. “You have to… I’m gonna,” he breathed, grateful for the stoplight that allowed him to fully focus on the glorious feeling of his cock in her mouth. He huffed as his balls tightened, his release imminent. 

She hummed around him, her sex surging with heated desire. Feeling him, tasting him inside her mouth—it was powerful. She controlled him in that moment… He was nearing the edge quickly, and she wanted him to. She wanted him to come, wanted him to lose control because of her. Her belly burned with excitement, and her skin tingled wherever it came into contact with his. His breaths were heavy, ragged, and each swipe of her tongue against the underside of his sensitive head made him groan. The car had stopped—she could tell they weren’t moving—and his hands lay softly against her hair. With two final flicks of her tongue he jerked, and his thighs tensed as a strangled cry erupted from his mouth. His seed spilled into her mouth, and she groaned as she listened to the sound of him, her internal walls clenching as her body rippled in empathy, wishing he was deep inside of her.

She licked and sucked until she’d cleaned him of every last drop, then sat up, lifting her eyes to his face and smiling at his profile. Head thrown back against the head rest, mouth slack—god, he was gorgeous. She looked out the window and realized they were already back at the apartment, parked in their assigned spot. 

“We’re here?” she asked, amazed at his ability to keep focus and NOT drive their car into a tree. 

He nodded, licking his lips. “I uh… I don’t remember driving it…,” he said, rubbing his face. “The car just sort of steered itself.” He chuckled, his eyes still closed. 

“You okay?” she asked softly. 

He lowered his head, opening his eyes. He turned to face her, a shocked expression on his flushed skin. “Am I OKAY?” he asked, amused. She chuckled to herself, ducking her chin as her cheeks reddened. “What the hell WAS that, Scully?” he smiled at her. 

She pursed her lips, wrapping her hand around the handle to the door. “It’s Holly…, remember?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow. 

He nodded, his eyes darkening. “So…, other than amazing blow jobs in moving vehicles, what else is Holly into?” His voice shot electricity straight into her clit. 

She leaned over, turned the car off, and removed the keys from the ignition. Letting them dangle from her finger, she eyed him mischievously. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

His mouth dropped, and he stared at her door long after her retreat. 

She smiled the entire way up the stairs, looking over her shoulder at Mulder as he walked gracefully behind her, his gaze never faltering. It was steady, predatory even, like a coyote circling its prey waiting for the kill. 

And she was the kill. 

She sucked in a breath, lifting her hand to the deadbolt. Oh, god… It was really going to happen. Seven years. Seven years of waiting for this moment, and it was finally here.

Oh god.

Oh god.

Her hands shook, and her stomach rolled violently. What the hell was she doing? What had she *already* done? 

She gasped, reaching out to brace herself against the hard door. His breath was hot as he leaned down to her ear. Noticing her shaking hand, he whispered, “We don’t have to do this.” His hands settled on her hips, and she squirmed under his touch, her breathing growing more rapid by the second. His presence was both equally calming and exciting. She didn’t know which she preferred at the moment. She didn’t know a lot of things. Doubt and fear crept into her mind. She needed to stop thinking. 

Stop thinking, Dana. 

“I’m fine,” she whispered, bringing her shaky hand back to the lock, inserting the key into the slot. Before she could turn it, his hand covered hers, stilling her movement. She shivered when he wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her back into him. 

Her gasp was audible, and her body trembled against him. “It’s okay if you don’t want to do this…” His voice was so soft, so light, it tickled the flesh of her neck, and she dropped it to the side in offering. Her skin tingled, desperate to feel his mouth against it again. He tightened his arm, bringing his lips down to her ear. “No one says we have to do anything…,” he said, brushing the hair from her neck with his nose. He pressed his lips softly against her pulse, nuzzling her skin with his stubble. 

“I…,” she whispered, “I…want to,” she finished, biting her lip as the words left her mouth. She *did* want to. “I’m just…,” she trailed off, lowering her chin to her chest. 

He pressed his mouth to her shoulder, nodding. “Are you nervous?” he asked gently. 

She nodded, feeling her eyes prickle with emotion. She wanted this. She wanted him. She just needed to stop fucking thinking for once in her life! 

She sighed, her heart beating rapidly as she leaned back her head, letting it drop against his chest. “What’s wrong?” he whispered, gently swaying their bodies, kissing her temple. 

She shook her head, and threaded her fingers through the hand wrapped securely at her hip. “I don’t want to think…,” she whispered, her voice clogged with emotion. She ran her hand up and down his arm. “I just want…,” she trailed off. 

He pressed his lips against her ear, “You just want to feel…, to forget everything else? Is that it, Scully?” he asked. 

She nodded, “Yess. I just want…to feel…and think later…, worry later,” she whispered, the air hissing between her teeth as his lips trailed against the skin of her ear. She gushed with desire, and her knees weakened. 

He pressed into her, letting his arm drape lower. His hand dipped to her lower belly, pausing at the elastic band of her bikini. “Well, we have two ways this can go, Agent Scully,” he whispered. “We can walk into that apartment as Mulder and Scully—partners, best friends—who are here on a case, and pretend like none of this ever happened…”

“Or?” she whispered, prompting him to continue. She didn’t want to pretend nothing had ever happened. She didn’t want him to stop. She just didn’t know how to move forward either. 

“Or…,” he continued, pressing his mouth into her neck and letting his hand inch lower on her belly… dipping lower and lower, until it paused just at the apex of her thighs, “…we can walk into that apartment as Paul and Holly—husband and wife—and you can let *her* do the thinking for you, turn over your body, just feel…,” he whispered huskily, letting his hand dip between her legs, cupping her sodden sex, swollen and aching with need. 

She whimpered, hissing as she covered his hand with her own, gently thrusting herself against it. “I think…,” he whispered in her ear, “that Holly WANTS it…, wants to be *fucked*,” and she gasped, surprised at how his words registered deep down inside her. “I think…,” he started again, pressing his hand up, feeling her arousal slip through the fibers of her bathing suit. 

She whimpered in pleasure, the desperate ache inside threatening to break her. 

“I think that Holly likes it…, needs it…, craves it.” Forcefully, he moved his hand and slipped it inside her bikini bottoms, rubbing and dragging his fingers through her slick flesh. He groaned, and clamped down on the flesh of her shoulder. Fuck, she was wet.

“I can *feel* how much she wants it… She’s so wet… Do you… Do you want it, *Holly*?” She moaned and braced herself against the door, rocking her hips against his hand desperately. 

He pressed his re-awakened arousal into her back, and she moaned, her knees shaking. 

She turned to face him, and met his heavy eyes with her own. “I want it,” she whispered, and he pressed her into the door, meeting her lips with his. 

They both groaned fiercely as their mouths met. He opened his eyes only long enough to turn the key and open the door, holding her to him as they stumbled through the entryway. Then he turned them, and forcefully pushed her against the wall. 

She lifted at the hem of her cover-up, practically ripping the sheer fabric over her head. She whimpered as he cupped her breasts, molding them to his hands as their mouths rejoined. It was sloppy, wet, their tongues meeting in the open air, as neither refused to break the kiss long enough to remove the remainder of their clothing. With a quick pull at her top, the strings came loose and her breasts were bare, freed for his hungry hands.

“Lose them,” he mumbled as their hands fumbled, each tearing in different directions at her bikini bottoms. Growling against her neck, he gripped her bare ass in his hands, pressing her against his hard cock, hissing at the heat emanating from her cunt. 

“Does she want him to taste her?” he purred into her ear, letting his hand drop between her legs. Her hips jerked as the electricity of his fingers burned her frayed nerve endings. Her legs shook, and she hissed when his fingers began to circle her swollen clit, slowly…, teasingly. “He wants to taste her…, to put his tongue inside of her,” he said raggedly, and she moaned, pushing at his shoulders until he was kneeling before her. Her internal walls clenched at the thought of his tongue there, delving in and out, mimicking what his cock would soon do.

“Fuck,” she hissed, clenching in anticipation. She could come from his words alone. He pressed one hand into her belly, and the other pressed her thigh to the side, holding her up as his mouth descended on her core. He paused to look up at her, hovering just above the place she desired him the most. Her whimper of frustration made him smirk, and she gripped his hair in warning. 

“Keep your eyes open. Watch,” he said.

The deep husk of his voice made her nipples burn, and she involuntarily thrust her pelvis at him. He lifted his chin, waiting for her reply. 

She felt a flush spread to her chest. Watch? Watch him go down on her? Oh, god.

“Holly likes to watch…,” he said, and she gasped, dropping her head back against the wall. Christ… If he didn’t touch her soon she was going to scream. “Holly likes to watch,” he repeated, licking her inner thigh. She gasped, and her mouth dropped open, her grip in his hair tightening, practically pulling it from the roots. “And he likes to watch her… watching him.” 

She practically sobbed when his mouth finally closed over her, his tongue circling her clit. “Oh, god!” she cried out in painful relief. 

She tasted like salt and chlorine, and he groaned as his tongue ran along the smooth surface of her lips. He found it undeniably sexy that her lips were bare, the pink flesh of her pussy glistening. He buried himself in her, his nose pressing into the only patch of hair on her sex. He looked up at her and saw her watching him. His cock twitched at the sight.

Her mouth was slack, her eyes heavy, and her eyebrows lifted in anticipation of where his tongue would delve next. He lifted his lips from her, letting her watch as his tongue circled her clit in open air, pushing and pulling it…, grazing the tip of it before he lowered his lips again, sucking its entirety into his mouth. 

“Oh, god!!!” she whimpered, her legs weakening by the second as her orgasm quickly approached. He let his finger slip into her again, dipping deep inside. She moaned and choked a sob. It was too much, too intense. Her muscles clenched around his finger, begging him to move, begging him to give her release. She rocked into his face, panting as she kept her eyes trained on what his mouth was doing to her. 

She saw her clit, swollen, exposed, peeking from the hood, and she moaned every time his tongue dragged across it. She could practically see it swelling with arousal before her eyes. To watch him give her this pleasure…, to see him do this to her…, it was everything she had ever imagined on those lonely nights, when her hand slipped between her legs in search of release. Only in her fantasies did Mulder draw this side out of her, the side that wantonly ground her pussy against his face as she begged him to make her come. Only in her fantasies did she not feel vulnerable and timid in her sexual desires.   
Until now. 

HE drew it from her – Paul, Mulder, whoever he was. He LET her be this way. And she could tell from the dark, lustful eyes staring back at her that he liked what he saw. 

Truth be told, she liked it too. 

“Talk to me, Holly…,” he said, lifting his mouth before he let his tongue delve between her folds in one swipe. “Tell me what she likes…, what she wants.” 

“Jesus…,” she whimpered, as his tongue resumed its movement around her clit, and his finger pumped slowly in and out of her. She could feel herself dripping down her thighs, and her chest flushed. His eyes were feral as they watched her, and her belly fluttered as he pressed her deeper into the wall, keeping her upright. 

“Uh…,” she started, clearing her throat and rolling her hips against his face. “She uh… that’s good… ungh. Yeah…like that…,” she breathed, opening her eyes to watch his tongue swirl around the swollen bundle of nerves. She was right on the edge, teetering on a cliff. “Don’t stop,” she whispered hoarsely, her breaths heaving her chest violently as she edged closer to the precipice. “Don’t stop,” she breathed again, thrusting her hips in time with his tongue, seeing her clit roll back and forth against his soft flesh. 

Her eyes rolled back, and she moaned, lifting her hand to one of her nipples, hardened to a taut peak. His eyes narrowed as he watched her fingers twist and pinch at the nub, her chest flushing an even deeper shade of red. Sweat formed on her brow, and he groaned against her folds. The sight of her nearly pushed him over the edge, hardening his cock completely. This was the Dana Scully of his dreams. Only in his dreams would she allow herself to be this exposed, this free. She was magnificent. 

He felt his chest clench in admiration for her, knowing how much it took for her to let this side show. If she felt safer as Holly, then so be it. To him, she was Scully. Always Scully. 

“Oh…god… I’m…she’s gonna… She’s gonna come,” she breathed, unable to keep her eyes open any longer. He groaned low in his throat and kept his eyes on her face, holding on as her legs began to shake.   
“Oh… Oh god…,” she moaned, whimpering as her internal muscles began to convulse. She gasped audibly as she came, her torso arching forward as the force of her orgasm washed through her. Her hands cupped his face as his tongue flicked quickly over her quivering clit, desperate for it to never end. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop. 

With a hiss, she finally pushed his face away as she came down, panting…, trembling. 

Their eyes met, and without breaking a second, he stood quickly, lifting her by the waist. She wrapped her legs around his hips and brought her mouth to his, moaning as she tasted herself on his tongue.   
He rolled his hips, thrusting them forward. His cock begged for entrance, her arousal dripping down his length. Her legs shook with the aftereffects of her orgasm, and she cupped the back of his neck, panting in his ear as he quickly lowered her onto his cock. “YESSS,” she hissed as he entered her, stretching her, consuming her. 

“Fuck…,” he seethed. She was hot, wet, and so fucking tight. Their breaths mingled as their lips lightly danced over one another, each gasping as new sensations revealed themselves. He pulled slowly out, coating himself in her arousal, and groaned as he pressed his face into her neck. Jesus, she felt good. She whimpered, shifting her hips, and they both hissed as he sank fully back inside her. He began to move within her, and she gasped, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, anchoring herself as they moved through the swells of their passion. 

His fingers drifted down between them, and she shook her head, rocking her hips in tune with his. “No… it’s good. This is good… Just keep moving…,” she panted, moaning into his neck as every thrust hit her upper wall, sliding against her slick depths, inching her surprisingly closer to another release. She smiled, gasping in disbelief. She never came twice during sex. Once was hard enough sometimes. 

She loved the feel of him. She loved the way he moved, the way he sounded, the feeling of his breath on her neck. She could lose herself in him…, in this. And maybe she would. 

Maybe Holly would… just for tonight. 

“Fuck me,” she whispered in his ear, and he groaned, pressing her so deeply into the wall, she thought their bodies would merge with the paint and plaster. 

He lifted his head from her neck, nipping at her jaw and chin. “Does she like it…? Does she like it when he’s fucking her like this?” he asked. His hips continued their rapid assault, pumping inside of her, shaking her body with the force of each thrust. 

“Yeah,” she whimpered, biting his bottom lip between her teeth. She soothed his lip with her tongue, and moaned as his cock hit just the right spot. “Oh, god…right there…, right there,” she whimpered, panting as she felt her pussy swell, as she neared her release. “Don’t stop…, faster…, harder,” she breathed against his mouth, their lips dueling for dominance as the moment consumed them. 

She tore her lips away, and he sucked on her chin as her body quivered, her legs tightening around his hips. It took everything in his power not to come. He had been holding back since he entered her, wanting to prolong this moment for as long as he could. He wasn’t done with her yet. He still had so much more he wanted to see, wanted to feel and taste, before she let her walls back up. 

And he knew they would build again. They always did. But he was determined to witness this for as long as possible. 

He groaned into her cheek, hissing as she clenched around his cock, rippling and milking him as she came, her soft cries and harsh gasp filling their living room. Her entire body was ablaze with the intensity of her release. She tightened her legs around his waist, holding him to him, riding out the waves of her pleasure as he continued to move in her, eventually slowing as the trembling abated. 

“Oh, god,” she sighed, forcing her breathing to return to normal. He stilled his movements, groaning into her mouth as he kissed her down from her high. His lips were soft and warm, and he sighed as she pulled his body tightly against hers, running her fingers through his sweat-slicked hair. 

She opened her eyes to a new light, a freeing sense of self washing through her, her skin still tingling. As he opened his eyes, she smiled and kissed the tip of his nose affectionately. 

“Hi,” she breathed, her smile beaming, a new energy seemingly radiating from her every pore. 

“Hi,” he panted, running his hands down the expanse of her thighs, meeting her smile with his own. This was all he had ever wanted. To see her like this. 

He was still hard, rock hard inside of her, and her brows furrowed as she realized it. “You… He didn’t…?” she asked, shocked. 

He chuckled, leaning forward, and kissed her squarely on the lips, before quickly turning them away from the wall. 

“Paul’s not done with Holly yet,” he grunted as he whisked them towards the bedroom, flopping her on the bed. Her breasts bounced as her back hit the mattress, and she gasped at the sheer force of the drop against the bed. She languidly spread her body, looking up at him with a small smile on her face as his hand ran up her leg. 

“Well Paul, why don’t you tell me what you have in mind?” 

\----  
(Continued in Chapter 8)  
Coming up next: Chapter 8: The Naked Truth  
How will Mulder and Scully cope the morning after…?


	8. Naked Truths

\---  
Chapter 8: Naked Truths  
Her legs wrapped around his waist as he leaned over her, bracing his forearms beside her face. His fingers wove through her hair, and he pressed his lips tenderly against her forehead. “You okay?” he whispered, nuzzling her nose with his own. She arched towards him, adjusting her legs as he settled into the valley of her thighs. His erection pressed against her, and she moaned, smiling softly, then lifted her chin to nip at his bottom lip.

“I’m great,” she replied, her voice husky. She dragged her fingernails down his sides, leaving little red lines in their wake, and he hissed, grinding his hips against her.

“Good,” he smiled, “because we’ve still got research to conduct.” She pulled at his body, until they melted into each other. They sighed into a kiss, reveling in the sensation of their bodies pressed so intimately together. 

Her mouth was hot, and her tongue darted in and out, toying with him, never delving completely inside his lips. He groaned, desperate to claim it, desperate to make it his. Breaking their kiss, he worked down her neck, tasting the chlorine on her skin as he ventured. 

She hissed when his hands closed over her breasts, gripping and molding them within the expanse of his palms—they fit so perfectly. He flicked a nipple with his thumb, and she shuddered beneath him. When his mouth closed around the other, she groaned, pressing his face further against her. Sucking air through her teeth, she threaded her fingers into his hair and lifted her head, watching him as he suckled her.

His brows were furrowed, focused on his goal, while his other hand continued its exploration, twisting and pinching, pulling at her other hardened peak. His tongue worked fervently over her breast, and each heated suck rushed directly to her clit.

Pulling her nipple between his teeth, he opened his eyes and met hers as he let it slide out, reddened and wet. He kissed down the center of her breasts, leaving a long, wet trail down the middle of her body. When he paused at her belly button, she spread her legs open for him, waiting— the anticipation of his mouth on her sex again made her thighs shake. He looked up at her, then scooted down the rest of the way, coming to stand at the edge of the bed.

“Wha--?” she whimpered in protest, reaching out for him.

He shook his head, touching her leg affectionately, eliminating her insecurity. “No… I just… I want to see you,” he whispered softly.

“You’ve seen me naked,” she murmured.

“Not like this,” he sighed, his voice barely above a whisper. He cleared his throat. “Jesus, Sc—“ He caught himself before her name slipped, returning his concentration to her—to the woman who was spread so wantonly before him.

Her legs opened wider, exposing the beauty of her feminine form. Pink, glistening... He growled low in his throat. 

She lifted one arm, pillowing her head, while the other drifted lower…, slowly tantalizing him with each inch her fingers traversed towards their goal. His eyes were trained on her hand and its slow path down her belly. She felt herself gush, and, biting her lip, she reached her target, pushing her middle finger between her slickened flesh. He groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as he gripped her leg fiercely. 

“Unngh, you can’t…,” he said, shaking his head, in blissful agony as her fingers circled her clit, dipping lower until two fingers slipped inside, her voice a soft moan. “I’m not gonna make it much longer if you keep doing that…,” he warned, his eyes dangerously dark as they focused on her hand moving between her legs.

How many times had he thought of this, thought of watching her do this? The reality of it was greater than any dream. The sight of her, the sound of her, the smell of her… Fuck. 

Wickedly lifting the side of her mouth, she hummed with pleasure, spreading her legs even wider under his gaze. Her chest tingled, the idea of him watching her so foreign and bold. But the way he looked at her, the way he watched her, made her feel desirable, sexy even. Dana Scully rarely felt sexy…, but she felt sexy in *his* eyes.

As he watched her pleasure herself, he gripped his cock, beginning to slowly stroke it. She whimpered, and her fingers moved faster as she watched his fist jerk up and down. Two could play at this game…

“God...,” he groaned, closing his eyes only briefly, too aroused by the sight of her to turn away.

“You said Paul liked to watch,” she said coyly, as if it excused the torture she was inflicting upon him. Her fingers never lost their rhythm, moving over her clit as quickly as his fist jerked around his cock. Agony had never felt so good…

“Fuck,” he hissed, sweat trickling down his temple. “Is this…is this what you do…when you’re alone?” he rasped.

She moaned, arching her neck as she dipped her fingers inside, spreading her arousal to her clit, then resuming her practiced touch. Her chest heaved, and her breasts swayed, teasing him even further.

“Yes,” she answered simply, her cheeks burning. She normally would be embarrassed, reluctant, to show this side of herself to a man, to grant him this fantasy, but she couldn’t stop. It felt too good. And every time she thought about him watching her while he stroked his cock, it only made her clit ache deeper. She *should* be embarrassed, but she felt emboldened. She *wanted* him to see it.

He huffed, closing his eyes. “Is it…is it me you see…? Do you wish it was me touching you…rubbing your clit…?” His voice was husky and his eyes feral. Her clit throbbed, swelling and aching beyond what she thought was capable. 

There was only one answer. “Yes.”

He bit his bottom lip, painfully, closing his eyes at her admission. Jesus, fuck, Scully… Meeting her eyes directly, he gripped her ankles tightly and pulled her forcefully towards him. She gasped as she slid down the bed, her fingers fumbling their movement between her legs. Lifting her behind the knees, he cradled her legs in the crooks of his elbows and aligned his cock with her entrance. Lifting her ass a few inches off the mattress, he entered her slowly, and they both moaned, names of the deities escaping their lips in soft whispers.

His cock moved in and out, and he groaned with each stroke. Her clit was swollen, reddened from her earlier ministrations. Her back arched against the bed, and she moaned heartily as he moved inside her. “Faster,” she breathed, opening her eyes to see his face. He grunted in reply and picked up his pace, stepping closer to the edge of the bed so that he could pound into her more fiercely.

She couldn’t control the sounds emanating from her mouth. Deep, throaty moans erupted as his length slid in and out, his pace so frenzied, she had to reach behind to brace herself against the bedspread. “Oh, god!” she cried out, while he angled her hips so his cock hit her upper wall with every movement.

“Touch yourself,” he breathed, as sweat rolled down his face, collecting in the hollow of his throat. She whimpered and let her hand drift lower, groaning with relief as her middle finger circled her clit again. Hissing, she began to rock her hips, meeting his thrusts with equal force, desperate for release. 

She looked in his face, seeing the way he watched her rub herself. “You *do* like to watch…,” she crooned, her eyes heavy-lidded. A small smile lifted the corner of her mouth, and she gasped between each thrust. “You like to watch me touch myself… You like to watch me rubbing my pussy, don’t you?” It was so soft he could barely hear it, but he did, and he had to grit his teeth to keep from coming on the spot.

“God, yes,” he seethed, his thrusts never faltering.

He’d only ever imagined her like this, so passionate, so wanting. She was glorious. She felt amazing—so tight and hot—and he felt his balls constrict every time he dared glance at her face. Her fingers worked rapidly against her clit; he couldn’t tear his gaze away. His biceps burned from holding her lower body off the bed, but he wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

Her hand slipped lower, and she spread her fingers around his cock as he pumped in and out, gathering wetness to spread back to her clit. When he met her eyes, she lifted her fingers to her mouth, sucking them in with a soft whimper. He smiled appreciatively, shaking his head. Fuck… Holly was naughty. She knew *exactly* what she was doing to him. She bit her lip and placed her glistening fingers back on her clit.

“Come… Come again,” he breathed urgently. Their bodies slapped together with the force of his thrusts, and she whimpered, turning her head against the bedspread. 

She looked back at him with pinched eyebrows. “No… I can’t…Two times already… I want you to come…” 

He grunted, shifting the angle of his cock, and lifted her thighs higher. “No. You’re gonna come again… Come for me…,” he urged, seething through his teeth. Sweat dripped down his neck to his chest. “Fuck…yeah… Keep rubbing your clit…”

She moaned as she let the power of his urging consume her. It was so good. The way his cock moved inside of her… God… Is this what she had been missing this whole time? Oh my god…

She gasped, “Right there!”

He groaned, teetering precariously on the edge. “Christ…ungh… Yeah...just like that… Fuck, you’re so wet.”

A familiar ache built between her legs, her folds throbbing, pulsing, as her orgasm built deep inside of her. A few more thrusts, and she would be there.

“Oh god…,” he grunted. “Your pussy feels so good…” he groaned between each thrust.

“So good,” she breathed, rocking her hips frantically, searching for release. She couldn’t believe she was going to come again. What was happening to her? Was Mulder doing this to her? Paul? Holly? Oh, who gives a fuck, just don’t fucking stop.

She wanted it. She needed it. “You needed to be fucked, didn’t you?” he breathed. She was quiet, biting her lip in furrowed concentration as her fingers never lost their pattern. “You needed it badly. TELL me!” he said forcefully enough that she opened her eyes to look at him. He lifted his chin. “Tell me,” he repeated huskily.

She nodded, whimpering through her closed mouth, her teeth clamped against her bottom lip, desperate to retain some small sense of control. He pulled her ass roughly against him, and she cried out as his cock hit her cervix. It was building…, building quicker than she was prepared for.

“Tell me…,” he urged roughly, headily, wanting to hear the words come from her mouth. She needed to say it, and he needed to hear it.

“I…,” she breathed, gasping as she felt her orgasm building. 

“I want it…,” she whimpered. “Don’t stop.” Lifting her fingers from her clit, she reached out with her hand. He leaned forward, taking her fingers in his mouth, and sucked her arousal from the tips. The heady, musky taste of her made him groan. 

“I need it. Fuck me,” she whispered, looking at him through glazed, half-lidded eyes. Almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she was coming…, coming so hard she saw stars behind her eyes. Her back arched off the bed, and her legs clamped around him. She shook in his arms as he pounded into her once, twice, three more times before collapsing on top of her, grunting and sighing as he spilled his seed deep inside her. It was the most intense orgasm he had ever experienced.

He sank into her arms, unable to keep his body weight from pressing into her entirely. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, kissing his temple, his ear, his stubbled cheek…, anywhere she could reach. Their sweaty bodies melded into one another, each silent as they slowly returned to earth.

With a groan, he used what little strength remained within to roll over, coming to lay on his back beside her, his arm thrown across his forehead. His chest still heaved from exertion, and his mouth hung open as though he had just sprinted a 100-meter dash.

Every inch of her body tingled. Seven years of sexual frustration, seven years of longing-- they left her body as though through an exorcism, freeing her soul from a purgatory she didn't even realize it had inhabited. 

She turned her head, looking over at him as he fought to regain his composure. Sensing her eyes, he blindly rooted with his free hand, searching the mattress for hers. He found it and squeezed reassuringly, lifting it to his lips before laying it on his chest. He wrapped both hands around her tiny fingers. 

“Good god,” he groaned, smiling at the ceiling.

“My sentiments exactly,” she said softly. Her breathing finally slowed to normal, and she rolled to her side, looking at her hand which was tightly clasped between his own. 

“Holly…likes to fuck,” he said between breaths, smiling as he struggled to open his eyes. “She might kill me…” He opened one eye, and looked sideways at her with a knowing smirk, and she turned her face into the bedspread to hide her blush. 

“Paul’s not so bad either,” she said, coyly meeting his eyes. He yanked on her arm and pulled her head to his chest, wrapping his arms around her.

“God, I needed that,” she sighed into his skin. 

He pulled her tightly to him, pressing his lips to her head. “Me too,” he murmured.

She sighed contentedly. The musky scent of their sex, combined with the chlorine smell of his skin, drifted into her nose, and she smiled. She hoped the smell of chlorine would always remind her of this moment, wrapped in his arms, basking in the tingly afterglow of amazing sex. She smiled. 

Adjusting more comfortably against the bed, they fell asleep almost instantly. His breath was soft against the top of her head, and his heartbeat drummed in her ear, lulling her into the deepest, most peaceful slumber she’d had in years.

\---  
The sun was peeking through the blinds, casting stripes of sunshine across their muted bedding. They had drifted from each other sometime in the night. She faced his bare back, and watched his ribs inch up and down. His hair laid flat against the back of his head, and she fought the urge to reach her hand out and run her fingers through it. His back was golden brown, from his time outside the previous day, and also from the way the sunshine glowed against his skin. She closed her eyes and sighed.

Slowly, and careful not to wake him, she rolled from the bed, wincing as she stood shakily on her legs. She was sore in places she was unaware she even had. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt the dull soreness between her legs, the kind that only rigorous sex can bring, and she smirked. If Mulder could see her now, he would be beaming with pride. Yes, Mulder, you did this. Not bad for a couple pushing the outer bounds of their thirties.

After a few gingerly steps, she walked towards the bathroom, pausing to look back at him as she closed the door. Turning on the light, she blinked a few times to adjust to the brightness. She regarded her appearance in the mirror, shaking her head and chuckling at her reflection. Her hair stood out in all directions, and her forehead was pink from too much sun. New freckles adorned her cheeks and nose, and her lips were red, still swollen from earlier. 

Earlier.

She pressed her fingers to her lips and closed her eyes, feeling a small shudder run down her body. Like a phantom touch, she could still feel his hands on her— the way he touched her, the way he kissed her, the way he moved within her…, the way he looked at her. It was like he’d seen her for the first time. *Really* seen her.

The memories of the night before played in her mind. Out of the moment, and in the light of day, she blushed fiercely, remembering everything she had said to him. Everything HOLLY had said, she rationalized. Holly had begged him to fuck her. Holly had told him over and over again how much she liked it. Jesus, had she really made him suck her fingers? God, Dana… 

As much as she tried to rationalize her behavior as purely Holly, she also realized that Holly was inside herself. She had created Holly, after all. 

Her mind still buzzed with his words from the pool. His admission that he desired her, that he wanted to spend hours making love to her. She trembled as she thought of the implications of those words—hours of Mulder’s mouth on her body, his hands on her skin. Her knees felt weak, and she gripped the sink to steady herself. There would be time enough for that… They had all day before the final party, before the magic room. She contemplated crawling back into bed, but her desire for caffeine won the battle. 

Placing her toothbrush back in the cup, she put on one of Mulder’s grey shirts hanging behind the door. She lifted the hem and smelled it. Just like him. She lost herself for a few moments, reveling in the masculine scent. Never before had she allowed herself such an indulgence, and she found herself missing him. Missing his arms around her, his breath on her neck. Her fingertips touched her pulse point, her skin tingling as she remembered how his tongue had stroked against it. 

She jumped when the phone rang, feeling her stomach flip-flop when she heard Mulder’s baritone murmur through the door. He was awake. Suddenly feeling nervous about facing him the dreaded “morning after”, she felt her cheeks burn and her stomach flutter…with anticipation. Anxious as she felt, her skin was raw with the desire to touch him again, to feel his hands on her again. 

She finished cleaning up, washing the sticky remains of their union from between her thighs. Feeling somewhat refreshed and presentable, she opened the door, leaning against the jam as she rubbed lotion into her hands, watching his face while he finished the phone call. He wasn’t looking at her. He simply stared into the space between his knees, studying the carpet as he spoke. 

“…Okay…yeah…sounds good…we’ll see you then…okay…thanks, Alicia”

Scully lifted her eyebrows. “Alicia,” she mouthed silently, letting the name roll off her tongue as she rubbed the excess lotion into the skin of her arms.

He leaned over and hung up the phone, rubbing his face with his hands, groaning. The sheet lay draped over his naked form, and she couldn’t help the rush of heat she felt between her thighs. Seeming to finally notice her appearance, he lifted his face to her, and she watched his sleepy eyes come alive, a tender smile playing upon his lips. 

“Hey,” he said softly, and she blushed, ducking her chin and shifting her weight on her feet. Her cheeks burned when she finally lifted her eyes to his, and she couldn’t fight the smile on her lips. 

“Hey…,” she repeated, feeling her stomach gently tumble. She took a deep breath, mentally chastising herself for being nervous. This was Mulder. “So, that was Alisha?” she asked in a pitch entirely too high. She closed her eyes briefly at the sound of it.

“Yeah,” he said, gesturing to the phone. His cheeks tinged pink, and Scully cocked her head in amusement. “She uh…,” he started, scratching at his forehead. “She said that we left so quickly last night that we forgot our invitation to tonight’s party.” Even his ears were pink. He was being bashful…, and it was entirely too charming. Control yourself, Dana. 

He continued, “She said she would have called last night but she didn’t want to interrupt what she said was probably, and I quote, ‘marathon fucking,’ so she decided to wait until this morning.” He chuckled at the carpet. 

“Marathon fucking?” she asked, with raised eyebrows, her heart skipping a beat. He didn’t answer. “Well…,” she said, turning towards the door. “Good thing she didn’t call, then,” she said simply, feeling her skin tingle with a combination of embarrassment and desire. She walked from the bedroom, towards the kitchen. 

He quickly cleaned up, smelling the coffee brewing from the kitchen. As he entered, she was leaning against the counter, sipping it from a steaming mug. He smiled to himself, feeling his chest tighten at the image of her in HIS shirt. How did he miss it before? He made a mental note to purchase more and leave them scattered throughout her house. She looked at him only briefly, as she handed him his mug. Their fingers touched as they pulled away, and she gasped. 

She turned back to the newspaper on the counter, shifting her eyes anywhere but on him. “It’s supposed to be over one hundred today,” she said as the weather forecast suddenly became the most interesting story she’d ever read. “Some high pressure moving in from—“

Her words were cut short by his hands on her cheeks, holding her face still as he brought his lips down to hers. It was the softest, most tantalizing kiss she’d ever experienced. His lips barely grazed hers, sweeping lightly across them as their breaths mingled. So unlike the frenzied passion from the night before. 

“Morning,” he whispered. Her breath caught, and she felt heat blossom low in her belly. Lifting her chin to search for his mouth, she nearly toppled over when he pulled away. Jesus…

“Morning,” she breathed, licking her lips as she tried to regain her composure. He took his mug and smiled, blowing the steam from the hot liquid. “How’d you sleep?” he asked, smirking behind his pursed lips.

She smiled, turning from him as she poured herself a fresh cup. “Amazingly,” she answered, “You?”

He paused, clearing his throat. “Best I’ve had in years.” She lifted an eyebrow at his double-meaning. She met his eyes as he smiled behind the green ceramic at his lips. Her clit, traitorous, tingled with new arousal. She couldn’t believe he could do this to her, reduce her to such a desperate state. 

He stepped closer into her space, reaching out to touch her arm. “But seriously,” he said, putting his cup down, “we should talk a little bit… How are you?” he asked, eyeing her face seriously. 

She sighed, closing her eyes. She knew it was inevitable – the obligatory, and necessary, discussion of their feelings, but she didn’t want it. She wasn’t ready for it. Not yet. Not when being Holly felt so damn good. There would be enough time for their truths, for their questions. But not yet. Please. 

She pressed her fingers to his lips, shaking her head gently. “Shhhh, I don’t want to talk,” she said softly. “I know we’ll need to…, but not yet.” She lifted her eyes. “Let’s just pretend…Can’t we just enjoy this final day…just BE …for once?” Her eyes implored him to understand. “I just want to enjoy it for a little longer…”

“I thought that’s what we did last night,” he said against the pads of her fingers. 

“And I want to keep doing it,” she whispered. 

His eyes darted to her mouth, and she licked her lips unconsciously. He lifted her fingers from his lips as he nodded his head in understanding. He cupped the back of her head with his hand, and drew her to him, this time in a feverish kiss. 

She whimpered as his warm tongue urged her lips open, and she gripped his bare sides when they met in the middle, her tongue greeting his. She was thirsty for the taste of him, the feel of him. You’d think it had been weeks since her last drink, not merely hours. 

Her hands skimmed up his chest and wrapped around his neck, pulling his warm body against her own. Moaning into her mouth, he bent and lifted her from the floor, placing her bottom against the cool tile of the kitchen counter. She gasped into his mouth at the contact.

He stepped between her opened thighs, pulling her hips towards him. He caressed her under his shirt, and groaned when he realized she wasn’t wearing underwear. Her skin was smooth beneath his fingertips, and she squirmed as he inched closer and closer to dipping between her thighs. Her body was trembling with need—having already experience it once, she knew what to expect. Still, every touch made her body quiver and her belly roll. Her hips undulated, needing him more and more each second. 

She dropped her head back as his mouth fell upon her neck, tasting it anew without chlorine or alcohol to dull his taste buds. She hissed as his tongue found the sensitive spot right under her ear, and she cupped the back of his neck with one hand, while reaching with the other to palm his prominent erection through the thin cotton of his pajama bottoms. 

He groaned, thrusting his hips into her hand, stilling his tongue against her pulse point in order to concentrate on the electric ache in his cock. Their breaths were ragged, and she turned her face into his neck, nipping at the bulging vein down the side. Lifting his head, he met her glassy eyes with his own. He growled low and deep when he saw the small wolfish smile curving up her lips. What had gotten into her? 

Not that he was complaining. 

“Jesus, Scully,” he sighed as he met her mouth halfway, securing his lips to hers. She reached inside his pants and pulled his cock free, stroking it from base to tip as she scooted to the edge of the counter’s surface. His fingers dug into the skin of her hips, and she smiled into his mouth when she felt his cock twitch in her hand. 

He groaned in frustration at the incessant ringing of the telephone. Reaching behind her, he answered it with an annoyed, “Hello?”

Scully’s eyebrows furrowed when he pulled away suddenly, slipping his erection back into his pants with a grimace. “Yes, sir.” 

She sighed in defeat, and jumped from the counter. Of COURSE it was Skinner. She crossed her arms in front of her, listening to the one-sided conversation Mulder was having with their boss. 

She heard Mulder gave Skinner their case notes, noting that the punch was suspicious, but that they hadn’t seen any evidence of tampering. So far Harold hadn’t made an appearance, but cameras were on the premises, documenting their time there. It seemed that Mulder and Skinner were in agreement that the final party would be where Harold would show his hand. 

When Mulder handed her the phone, she took it. “Scully.” 

“Agent Scully, I wanted to speak to you privately to make sure you were…,” he trailed off, pausing as he sighed into the phone. She could practically see him rubbing the bridge of his nose. “How are you holding up with this case?” he asked gently. 

“Sir?” she asked, needing clarification. 

“I’m just checking in, Agent Scully. I can’t imagine how…uncomfortable this case must be to you—“

“I’m fine, sir.” Her answer was clipped and to the point. 

There was a long pause on the other end before he spoke again. “Okay good…, because this final party…the magic room… We’ve uh… There’s intelligence to suggest that a certain amount of couple-swapping happens in the room. I’m not asking you to do anything outside your comfort zone—“

She stopped him before he could speak any further. She could practically see him sweating over the phone, the conversation so uncomfortable and unnatural to have with an agent. “I understand, sir. I’ve…already considered what we will potentially be confronted with.” She swallowed thickly, pushing the thought from her mind. “Agent Mulder will be there… There shouldn’t be a need to—“

She was cut off by his exasperated sigh. “Look, I trust that you and Agent Mulder will do what you see fit. And honestly, I… I don’t need to know, as long as you are comfortable with it.” She felt her cheeks flush. 

Gratefully, he changed the subject, “I already told Agent Mulder, but I wanted you to be aware, that we have eyes on Harold, as well as an associate of his. We have agents tailing them as we speak. I’ll let you know if anything happens that affects the case.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Okay… Regardless of what happens at the party, you and Agent Mulder are on the first flight back out to Washington tomorrow morning. We can question and process you both here.” His voice was gruff and to the point, and she was thankful for that. But then, more softly, he added, “And Dana?” 

“Sir?”

“Take care of yourself tonight.”

“Yes, sir. I will. We’ll see you back in Washington tomorrow then.” They said their goodbyes, and she hung up the phone. 

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, and she would be back in her apartment, back in her life. One more day like this… That’s it. Just one more day. She felt Mulder’s arms wrap around her from behind, and she sighed into his embrace, resting the back of her head against his chest. 

“Where were we?” he whispered into her neck, and she smiled, rubbing her hands along his arms. Warmth spread through her body when he kissed her shoulder, pulling the collar of her shirt aside to expose more of her skin to his wandering mouth. 

“What did Skinner say?” he asked between soft kisses. 

“Nothing,” she sighed, tensing at his question. 

He lifted his mouth from her neck to rest his chin on her shoulder. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

She turned to face him. “Nothing… Honest. Just something Skinner said… I just… I know the likelihood isn’t…,” she trailed off, wiping her face with her hands as she pulled from his embrace. 

“Scully?” 

“I’m fine,” she said, placing her hand in the center of his chest. “I’m just going to jump in the shower…Shake this off.” 

She walked to the bathroom, leaving him standing there. She felt annoyed that she was annoyed. Why did Skinner have to call? Why did he have to burst this little bubble she wanted to live in?. Didn’t they deserve half a day’s peace? She wanted to feel Paul’s hands on Holly again…feel his mouth as he kissed down the center of her stomach before he…

“Hey…,” he said, breaking her daydream. “Talk to me.” He came into the bathroom, leaning his left hip against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I didn’t want to deal with the case,” she answered softly. “We have…we HAD…all day to NOT talk about it….” 

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. She sighed as she leaned back into his chest, closing her eyes and allowing his scent to wash through her. “I didn’t want to think about it is all…and he brought up something I hadn’t wanted to think about…, and I just…,” she trailed off. 

“Why don’t you want to talk about the case? Are you nervous?” he asked softly, his breath tickling the side of her neck. He rested his chin on her shoulder, and their eyes met in the mirror. “Because if you’re nervous, you shouldn’t be…” He turned to her ear, his breath hot against her skin. She shivered. Watching him in the mirror, her eyes darkened and her skin flushed. “After your performance,” he continued, his voice heavy, “After HOLLY’S performance…, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” His voice made her tingle, and she felt her nipples tighten against her shirt. 

“You liked Holly?” she whispered, her eyes heavy. A thrill shot down her spine at the simple mention of her cover name. He met her eyes again in the mirror, noticing her nipples puckering through the thin cotton of her shirt. His hands smoothed over the small expanse of her torso, inching upwards. Her chest heaved with each new space his hands covered, her breasts aching as he kept them just out of his reach. 

“Mmmm…,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “I liked Holly very much,” he practically growled, and she felt herself gush, sighing against his chest. “I think you liked her, too,” he added, locking his eyes on hers. 

Her eyelids fluttered, and she lifted her chin. It wasn’t a question, but it still made her belly do flip-flops, and her blush creep from her chest all the way up her neck. She knew it was true. 

“Skinner…,” she started breathlessly, “mentioned old footage showing… ‘wife-swapping’, he called it….” She closed her eyes and swallowed. His arms tightened around her. 

“Wife-swapping?” he asked, his gut clenching at the mere idea of her being touched by another man. 

She paused, and their eyes locked intently. His grip around her was possessive, tight. “Do you *want* to ‘wife-swap’, Scully?” he whispered hoarsely, his eyes nervous as they looked into the mirror. 

She ran her hands over his arms, letting her nails catch on the fine hairs. 

She shook her head. “No…” Her voice was small, but he heard her, and he let out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “But it doesn’t matter what *I* want. There are roles to play…, and I’m just a little nervous about being asked,” she added, and his jaw tensed. 

“Scully I don’t--,” he breathed, closing his eyes. 

“’Scully’ won’t be at the party tonight, Mulder. Holly will. Holly and Paul are swingers. We have to remember that,” she said, her eyes pleading with his in the mirror. 

He nodded slowly, allowing the corner of his mouth to lift into a smile before he licked his lips. Brushing the hair from her neck, he lowered his lips to her skin, allowing his tongue to dart out, tasting her. Her breath caught, and her nails dug into his arm in anticipation of him doing it again. She loved that spot. 

“You need to remember something too, Scully.” His whisper in her ear made her shiver, and she arched her back, her nipples pressing against her shirt. 

“What?” she whispered in reply, never taking her eyes off his body’s reflection. His eyes were dark with desire as he pulled her closer, grinding his erection into her hip. 

“That we’re in this together…” His hands roamed over her belly, one moving up as the other moved down… It was slow, tantalizing, and it took everything not to buck her hips in search of his touch. “That we’re partners…,” he added, sweeping past her sex to run his finger along her upper thigh, toying with the hem of her shirt. His other hand paused just beneath her breast. Her chest heaved as her breaths quickened, and her tongue darted out to wet her lips. His jaw slackened while he watched her reflection. 

“Partners,” she breathed, covering his hands with her own, desperate for them to resume their movement. 

“Yeah…,” he breathed, his thumbs circling where his hands stood still. He could feel her skin quivering. “Partners..., husband and…wife.” He practically growled the last word into her ear, and she whimpered in the back of her throat, her head dropping back to his chest. 

“Open your eyes,” he said huskily. His hands began their slow, tortuous movement again, and his fingers slipped between her thighs so slowly she thought her skin would burn from the heat of his hand. 

“Paul would never let anyone touch his wife… Not anymore, at least,” he added. She trembled as his words tickled her ear. His fingers lifted her shirt, pulling it slowly over her head. He dropped it and returned his gaze to the mirror, admiring her naked form. 

“What changed? Paul didn’t seem to mind yesterday,” she said, lifting an eyebrow, feeling emboldened. 

His eyes followed the path his hands took down her body. She twitched as his finger trailed down her sternum, stopping at her belly button. “You mean the sybian?” he asked, swirling his finger around. She swallowed convulsively. 

“The sybian…, kissing Kevin in the pool…” she said. Jesus. He had forgotten about that, and he bit his lip thinking about it. His stomach clenched. 

“Well… That was before…,” he said thoughtfully, resuming his exploration of her body. Her nipples tightened to hardened peaks before his eyes, and her arms erupted with goose bumps. He loved watching her. He loved seeing exactly what his hands could do to her body, watching her reactions on her face. 

“Before?” she whispered. 

“He wanted to stop Holly from kissing Kevin, but he didn’t think he could, he didn’t know if she wanted to stop, didn’t know whether she wanted HIM, and only him.” 

He turned his face into her hair, letting one hand move slowly down the center of her body while the other came up, cupping her breast. She gasped with pleasure, her eyes rolling back in her head. Covering his hand with her own, she squeezed, hoping he’d take the hint. Touch me. 

His thumb swept over her turgid nipple and she sighed, feeling wetness flood her core. “And…,” he whispered into her hair, “it was before he really…*really* felt her,” he rasped, squeezing her breast in his hand. She collapsed against his chest, her jaw slack. His other hand swept up her legs, and she hissed as his fingers slipped between her wet folds. He groaned against her scalp, and her clit throbbed with need. 

She whimpered when he pulled his hand from her sex. He brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked her desire from them. She gasped. “It was before he tasted her.” His eyes were dangerously dark as they looked at her, his skin flushed. He brought his hand back to her center, pushing his fingers through her slick flesh again. She practically sobbed when he began to swirl them around her clit. “Before he felt how wet she gets…for him.” Her eyes fluttered shut. 

“For you,” she replied, reaching an arm back and gripping his neck. They watched their bodies in the reflection, his hand cupping her breast while her hand urged him on. Her pale skin stood in contrast to his tan, as did their height difference. Eyes heavy with passion, jaws slack. The muscles of his forearm rippled as his fingers worked her swollen clit, and her arousal glistened in the light of the bathroom. 

“After all of that… After touching you…, tasting you…, I could never let anyone else touch you…, and I don’t care if you’re Holly, OR Scully.” 

She whimpered under the force of his words, and he growled into her ear. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned, slipping his fingers inside of her. Her moan echoed off the walls of the small bathroom, but his eyes never left her face. Watching her. Taking her in. 

Her skin was flushed, and sweat trickled down her neck, collecting at the hollow of her throat. He licked his lips, saddened he couldn’t taste it on his tongue.

His erection was pressed firmly into her back, impossibly hard. He hissed when she reached behind her, palming it through the thin material of his pants. “Fuck,” he seethed, nipping the artery in her neck. Her legs wobbled. 

Jesus…his fingers inside of her, his teeth on her neck... It was sensory overload. Every nerve ending on her body was ablaze, set on fire by his touch. 

He pumped his cock into her back, pulling her against him tightly. “I want to fuck you,” he whispered, and she shuddered, her internal muscles clenching. The look on his face was raw, primal. She’d never thought she could come from one look alone, but she was starting to second-guess that. 

He moved to turn her around, likely to sit her on the counter, but she stopped him. She lifted her left knee onto the cool surface of the counter and raised up on her tippy toes, her pussy glistening and exposed. He growled at the sight of her opening herself for him. She placed her other foot inside the bottom cabinet, and it gave them the necessary leverage for him to reach her. 

Wrapping his arm around her waist, he bit into her shoulder. Her hands braced against the mirror, fogging the glass with each rapid breath. “Keep your eyes open,” he said deeply, “Watch how fucking sexy you are.” 

He entered her slowly, filling her, spreading her. They moaned in unison, the pleasure from this angle unlike the others. He shifted his hips once he was fully inside of her, bending his knees and pulling her back against his chest. His hands moved up her torso, and her back arched as they swept up her body, cupping her breasts and pinching her nipples in the webbing of his thumbs. 

He rocked slowly, moving in and out of her. Holding her close to him, he marveled at how tight and hot she was around his cock. Her hips rocked against his, meeting his slow and leisurely strokes. 

“Look at us,” he breathed, and she opened her eyes, amazed at the erotic image displayed before her. “This is what everyone will see tonight,” he rasped, his breathing uneven and hurried. “Look at you…” He turned his face, pressing his nose into her neck. “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, and she moaned, her body trembling. 

Her hips urged his to move faster, and he hissed, breaking eye contact to watch his cock slip in and out of her wet heat. “Fuck…,” he breathed, his balls tightening. He reached around her, rubbing her clit with his free hand, while the other molded her breast into his palm.

She moaned, her legs shaking. “Oh, god!” she cried, her brows furrowed in pleasure. 

“God…,” he groaned, as his hips continued their movement inside of her, “I love fucking you.” He met her eyes in the mirror.

She didn’t know whether he was still speaking as Paul, or if this was Mulder. She didn’t know whether it even mattered anymore. His cock felt so good as it moved inside of her, and she couldn’t deny the fact that she loved it, too. She loved him fucking her… “So good,” she breathed, gasping as the head of his cock hit her upper wall on every stroke. 

“You’re mine,” he seethed, his eyes feral. She nodded twice, whimpering and moaning as her own release built inside of her. “You’re mine… You’re mine… You’re mine,” he repeated as he pumped into her, feeling his body edge closer and closer over the precipice. What this Paul, or was this Mulder? 

She watched his face in fascination, forcing her eyes to stay open to see him. “I’m yours,” she whispered to the mirror. 

His eyes widened. “Sc—“ he started, but stopped himself, biting down on her shoulder to stop her name from escaping his lips. It *was* Mulder. The feeling of his hot breath in her ear, his cock moving inside of her, was her undoing. She couldn’t hold it anymore. 

Deep inside, she felt it. Her clit pulsed as her pussy gripped him tightly, rippling around him as he pumped inside her. “Mmmulddderrrr!” she cried out, falling forward. Her hands came out, bracing herself against the mirror while her orgasm ripped through her. Panting and groaning, he spilled his seed, her contractions milking his cock as they both came down. 

He wrapped his arms around her, securing her trembling form to his. He helped her off the counter, and she turned to face him. With glassy eyes, she looked at him, tracing his lips with the pads of her fingers. “I’m yours,” she whispered again, and he brought his mouth down, letting their tongues meld in a heated kiss. 

Paul and Holly. Mulder and Scully. It doesn’t matter. He is hers. And she is his. 

\---  
The sun was lower when they opened their eyes again, the loud ring of the telephone interrupting their dreams. Scully rolled over and reached for the receiver. 

“’Lo” she answered sleepily, bracing herself on her elbow. She slowly sat up, wiping the sleep from her eyes. “No, no, it’s fine. I was just lying down before the party… How can I help you, sir?” 

With her final words, Mulder opened his eyes, lying on his side to face her back. He reached his hand out, tracing down her spine with one finger. She was silent for a majority of the call, murmuring her understanding with small grunts and ‘yes sirs’. Finally, she ended the call, placing the phone back on the nightstand. 

She was quiet for a few moments, her back still turned to him. 

“Scully?” he asked softly, laying his head down on the pillow and facing her with a questioning look. 

She lifted her chin and took a deep breath. “That was Skinner.” 

“So I gathered. What did he want?” He wiped his face of sleep and put his arm behind his head. 

“It’s over.” Her voice was so soft, it came out more like a breath. 

Sitting up on his elbows, he asked, “What?” 

She stood, turning to face him finally. “There was a bust. Harold was caught buying underage prostitutes. His ah…,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose, “…colleague was arrested on drug and weapons charges.” She walked to the closet, lifting her thin robe from the hook on the back of the door. 

Mulder sat up, running his hands through his unruly hair. “It’s OVER?” he asked, shock evident in his voice. They were silent for a few moments. “So, what now?” he asked softly. “I take it the party is cancelled?” 

She nodded, swallowing the lump in the back of her throat. Why was she so upset by this? “Yeah, um,” she said, clearing her throat, “back to Mulder and Scully, I guess.” 

“Back to Mulder and Scully,” he repeated, feeling a slight ache in his chest at the thought. 

“I guess we didn’t need…,” she trailed off, sighing, “all of the uhm…research,” she finished, swallowing thickly. 

“Scully,” he said softly.

She licked her lips, her eyes burning with unshed emotion. She couldn’t do this in front of him. “I’m going to get changed. Skinner is going to call us with new flight information. We’re flying out tonight.” 

“Tonight?” he asked, disappointment evident. He reached for her as she moved from the bedroom, but before he could stop her, she closed the bathroom door. Covering her mouth with her hand, she leaned back against it and slumped to the floor. 

What the fuck was happening? She was in shock. Suddenly, she felt as though her world was ending in some respect. The little world she and Mulder had built for themselves inside this unfortunate case. And now, their little world had just collapsed.

She hadn’t been ready for it, had been sure they’d have one more night together. One more night to indulge in the fantasy, before they had to face reality. 

She didn’t know whether she was ready to let this go yet. Whether she was ready to say goodbye to Holly. Or to Paul. 

She didn’t know whether she was ready to be Scully again. 

Would Scully be brave enough to rebuild that little world with him? In real life? Would Mulder even want to?

Fighting back tears, she turned on the shower, while she heard Mulder call her name from the other side of the door.

What happens now?

\---  
Next: Chapter 9 – Back to Reality


	9. The Long Road Home

The flight home was uneventful, much to Scully’s relief. Nervous, and unsure of where her footing lay in her newfound role with Mulder, the last thing she wanted was to be cooped up with him for the next four to five hours. The closeness of his presence, the heat from his body, the smell of his scent… It would be too much. And she knew it. So, when Skinner informed them that Mulder’s profiling abilities were needed during the interrogation process, Scully was all too happy to flee. Alone.

The flight itself was cleansing. She was able to begin shedding the skin of the woman she’d embodied over the last week. With each mile the plane flew east, a piece of Holly was left behind, leaving a scattered trail of her across the country: clothing in Las Vegas, boldness in Kansas City; lust in Tennessee, and her heart in West Virginia. By the time she arrived in D.C., Holly no longer existed. Instead, Dana Scully walked off the plane, dressed and poised as the woman everyone knew her to be.

Almost everyone.

Mulder had known her as Holly. 

It had made the case easier to be someone else. Forbidden. Enticing. It had also made it easier to live with his reaction to her. The way he had looked at her… God. It made her shiver remembering his intensity as he drove into her again, and again.

But she can’t be Holly here. She can’t ever be Holly again. She is Dana Scully. And Scully doesn’t go to swingers parties, she doesn’t flirt and entice married men, she doesn’t engage in public sex. She most definitely doesn’t sleep with her partner.

She opened the door to her apartment, and the heaviness of silence greeted her. The setting sun cast a warm glow against the eggshell walls. It smelled like home. It looked like home. But it felt…empty.  
It shouldn’t feel empty—this is her life. This is the life that Dana Scully chose for herself. She chose to live alone. She chose to ignore a social life, a life of friends and going out. She chose the emptiness.  
She knew this, but coming home to an empty apartment still felt stifling, and her chest ached with loneliness. She missed him.

She told him she needed time, she needed distance. Only after seeing his look of pain did she realize that a slap across the face would probably have hurt less. 

*******“I just…need to…decompress a little, Mulder. We’ve been…together for well over a week…, and I just need some space,” she’d explained gently while she’d packed her suitcase. She noted his terse jaw, his eyes so full of pain it made her want to cry.

“What if I don’t want space, Scully? What if I want THIS,” he said, gesturing to the rumpled bed. It still smelled like sex. Their sex. 

She shook her head, biting her lip as she zipped up her luggage, and her throat tightened with emotion. “You don’t understand…”

“You’re right. I don’t understand, Scully. I thought… Did it mean anything to you?” 

It had meant more than she’d ever expected. Which was precisely why she had to leave.

She couldn’t look at him, fearful of losing herself. It would have been so easy to fall… Oh, how easy it would have been to bend down and take his lips between her own, falling flat against the bed… Too easy.  
She shook her head to clear her thoughts.

“Mulder, I’ve spent the past week playing someone vastly different from myself, and in that week, we have…,” she paused, swallowing thickly, “experienced a part of each other that we never have before. We can blame it on the case. It’s easy to explain…”

“Scully…”

“No, let me finish… I…,” she sighed in exasperation, letting her head drop back on her shoulders. “I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore…” She looked down, biting her lip as she searched for the right words.  
“I do.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and she blinked rapidly, willing them away. “Mulder, you’ve seen…,” she trailed off, pinching the bridge of her nose. She was certain of his affection for Scully, but she wasn’t sure where Holly fit into the equation. She couldn’t reconcile the two women in her brain. Being around him would only make it worse. Battling between her mind and her heart, she knew that distance would provide the clarification she needed. She had never planned to fall into his arms the way she did, so unbridled, so full of passion. On the case, they’d been able to spend all day in each other’s arms, making love, eating, laughing...

But they have to live in the real world. The world that doesn’t allow for such luxuries, and she wasn’t sure she could survive the heartbreak if things went awry.

She needed the distance. She needed the time.

He fell back to the mattress with a frustrated groan, his deep growl startling her. “I KNEW you would do this.”

She zipped her bag with a final, resounding pull. 

“Admit it, you want to erase everything we did...”

“Mulder… this case…”

He slammed his hand against the wood dresser, and she jerked, closing her eyes. “Dammit, Scully, why can’t you think with your heart instead of your fucking MIND all the damn time!!!”

She raised her eyes to meet his, ignoring the question. Uttering the final blow, “I think we need to be apart right now,” she watched the pain etch across his face as it ripped his heart out. ********************

She spent the next week staring at her unpacked luggage, still sporting the white airport tag on the handle. Scuffed and marred from overuse and abuse, the bags have seen better days. Oh, the stories her luggage could tell…

If she’s learned one thing over the years, it’s that all hotels (and even seedy road-side motels) smell the same. Sometimes, it’s days before she gets the industrial smell of whatever-case-they-were-working from her clothing. Considering the lack of formaldehyde and toxic alien blood in their latest case, she didn’t expect her olfactory memory to be sparked in the way it was when she opened her suitcase.

Her clothes smelled like him.

Her clothes smelled like THEM.

Sure, she could still smell her own laundry detergent and perfume mixed in with the dirtied items, but beneath that was the smell of his aftershave, the smell of his musk, the smell of chlorine. The memories she’d tried in vain to repress came crashing back to the forefront of her brain—his hands on her body during the first party, her legs around him in the pool, the look on his face as he’d watched her move on the sybian, the sounds he’d made when they’d been in front of the mirror, his cock moving in and out of her as he took her from behind.

She slammed the lid of her suitcase, zipping the bag in such haste, a piece of red lace poked through the side. It was no matter though. She wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready to unpack, to wash away the proof of what they had shared.

She just needed time. Away from him, time to regain control over her feelings, over her heart. Only then could she face the reality that she couldn’t be Holly with him anymore. She didn’t know how to be with him as Scully. Before this case, she’d never even thought about it, but now there seemed to be such a vast distinction between the two.

She just needed time to sort out her thoughts…, not only in regards to Mulder…, but also to herself.

 

\---

They barely spoke all week. Torn in different directions, they were like ships passing in the night, each busy on assignments that pulled them away from the other. She’d feigned disappointment, even cast an annoyed remark or two in Skinner’s direction when he’d handed out their temporary assignments. Ironic that she should have such issue with it when it was SHE who had requested it in the first place…

Skinner had been understanding when she’d come to him the morning after her return to Washington. He’d taken into account the intimate and vulnerable nature of the case when he’d approved her request. She’d blamed it on the heinous nature of the crimes, the empathizing with his victims. He didn’t need to know that it was because she was afraid of being in the same room as Mulder.

….

She ignored his calls, and his unreturned messages littered her answering machine.

“Hey, Scully, it’s me. I just got back into town. I’ve tried calling you, but your phone must be dead or something. I’ll see you at work tomorrow... Call me… I uh… Call me.”

“Hey, Scully… I came by this afternoon to take you to lunch but you weren’t down in the classrooms…, or the morgue… Anyway… Was hoping to see you. Call me”

“Hey, Scully it’s me. Listen, I uh…talked to Skinner about the assignment, but he wouldn’t budge. It’s only for a couple of weeks… I hope.”

It had only been five days since he felt her lips against his own, or heard her throaty moans as he touched her, but he missed her.

He missed her as a lover, as a woman, not just his partner. He missed talking to her every night before he fell asleep. He missed the sight of her sleepy eyes in the morning as she sipped her coffee and flipped through the local Las Vegas paper. He missed the smell of her hair as she rested on his chest. He missed the taste of her.

Groaning, he turned off the television, letting his head drop back against the couch. His usual brand of entertainment held little appeal for him now, not when he had actual memories from which to draw. Memories of her wet skin in the pool, his thumbs across her nipples, her legs around his waist, the humid heat of her breath against his neck, her lips around his cock.

It had been five days since they left Las Vegas, but five days was too long to go without with her.

She’d told him she needed time.

How MUCH time, however, he wasn’t sure. And he was terrified of finding out.

\---  
She hoped the warm water would ease the dull ache that had settled in her heart over the past few days. The scent of lavender and eucalyptus invaded her senses, but did little to distract her from the thoughts that kept resurfacing. Warm water lapped against her skin in gentle waves. She closed her eyes, letting her fingers dance through the oil-slicked water.

Oil.

She trembled as she imagined the ghostly touch of his hands sweeping up her legs, and gripped the edge of the bathtub in anticipation of where they would move next. Heat blossomed deep in her belly. She skimmed her hands over her thighs, mimicking his touch. The smell of the lavender bath salts reminded her of the rice bag she’d worn over her eyes...when his hands, slick with oil, had touched her, rubbed her, coaxing her into heated bliss.

Her clit throbbed with desire, pulsing between her legs. Her hands roamed, settling between her thighs, slipping through her slick folds. She hissed as her hips arched against her hand.

Five days…

It had been five days since she felt this—this intensity coursing through her veins. She bit her lip as her fingers circled her clit, easing and intensifying the ache between her legs. She whimpered, her frustrated cries echoing off the walls of her bathroom. Lifting her other hand from the water, she cupped her breast, squeezing the swollen flesh. A surge of electricity shot straight to her core as she pinched her hardened nipple between her fingers, rolling it between the pad of her forefinger and thumb.

His fingers between her legs… His mouth around her nipple…

She replayed that first night in her mind, the night of the first party. His hands, and lips, and teeth had worked her body in a way she had never felt before. The mere thought of it was enough to make her wet. She felt the lingering remnants of his touch, the tingling trail of fire they had left behind.

How differently she would do things now…, if given the chance again.

Behind her eyes, she imagined his mouth on her hip, nipping, his tongue warm and wet. She gasped, shuddering as her fingers continued their touch between her legs, the warm water of the bath swirling against her swollen flesh as her hand moved beneath the water. 

She remembered the deep ache that his touch had ignited – how desperately she’d wanted his fingers to dip between her slickened folds of flesh. She’d desperately wanted his touch then. She’d needed it. Too afraid to show him how much he was affecting her, how wet and turned on she’d been. She’d denied herself the pleasure of him. But now, now behind her eyes, she could change history…

She hooks the black strings of her panties and pulls them off her legs, hearing his hiss of surprise as she spreads her legs wantonly. She rips the rice bag off her eyes. She needs to see him. She needs to experience this wholly. Undulating her hips towards his hand, she whispers, “Touch me,” and he groans, letting his hands roam down the insides of her thighs before settling between her legs.

Her back arches off the floor as he dips his fingers inside her, his murmured expletives falling deaf to her ears. He leans over, his thumb circling her swollen clit as his fingers move inside her. Her moan cries out in the room, and he silences her with his mouth. Their lips dance over each other, playing and toying. She trails her tongue along his bottom lip, pulling it between her teeth as she whimpers. His fingers work inside of her, circling and rubbing against a spot so deep inside of her it, makes her want to cry from the ecstasy it ignites. Only him. He’s the only one who has ever made her feel this, feel LIKE this.

His heated breaths play across her mouth, and she opens her eyes. He’s watching her, his eyes almost black with arousal. He can’t help the gentle rhythmic pumping of his hips while his hand continues to build her…, building her higher, and higher towards her release. She grips his back, digging her fingernails into the soft cotton of shirt, feeling the heat radiate from his body. Her hips meet his hand with each pump, and he groans into her neck. “Fuck, Scully,” he seethes, clamping down on her shoulder.

She feels the first strong pulse of her release. Her chin lifts, her neck arching further…, further with each breath ,as the tightening in her core signals her imminent end. “Don’t stop… I’m gonna come,” she whispers…to herself, to him, to God… She doesn’t care who’s listening anymore. Let them listen. Let them hear what he’s doing to her.

That thought alone is what breaks her. She gasps, her walls clenching around him as her back arches off the floor. He grunts in her ear, fiercely pumping his fingers through her orgasm. ‘Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop’ she chants inside her head, hoping he can read her mind. This time she isn’t alone in her release. This time, the sight of her, the feel of her, the taste and smell of her, set him over the edge too. This time, they share the slow return to the present, their bodies trembling and breaths shaky as they bury their faces into each other….

She sighed as her fingers stopped their movement, her chest heaving with sated desire. Her skin tingled, still feeling his phantom touch, and with perfect reception, her mind still heard the sound of his voice. It buzzed in her ears, and she fought the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. She shook her head, hoping to rid him from her lust-addled brain, only coming to realize that it wasn’t just a figment of her imagination. It was her answering machine. Sitting up, she closed her eyes as his voice boomed through her empty apartment. 

“…Anyway, Scully… I just wanted… Uh… I just…,” he sighed, “I just miss you. Call me.” The shrill beep that ended the call pierced her ears, and she winced. Leaning back into the tub, she wrapped her arms over her chest, and a single tear fell from her eye.

“I miss you, too,” she whispered.

\---  
After opening and closing every drawer in her bureau, she glanced to the heaping pile of laundry in the corner. Sighing, she resigned herself to the fact that all of her pajamas were likely buried somewhere within.  
Placing her luggage on the bed, she finally succumbed to the need for clean clothes. Opening the bag, she sorted her items into specific piles, lingering over her bathing suit especially, memories swirling in her brain like a whirlpool. She swallowed thickly, her throat tightening in remembrance.

She reached into her luggage, pausing at the garment in front of her. Picking it up, she held it as her heart dropped into her stomach. Red lace and chiffon. The negligee Holly had been planning to wear to the magic room party. She turned and faced the mirror, holding the flimsy gown in front of her. She ran her hand down the smooth expanse of sheer mesh. A plunging neckline with an empire waist dropped flowing chiffon to her hips. Matching lace panties completed the ensemble. She remembers buying it, when she hurriedly rushed to the checkout counter, lest someone notice her purchasing the somewhat trashy piece of lingerie…

She opened her drawer and noted the plain cotton and satin that dwelled inside. Dana Scully liked clean lines. She liked simple. She liked easy and comfortable. If lace appeared on her lingerie it was only there to accessorize an already plain bra or panties. Dana Scully didn’t own sheer lace. Sheer lace was too impractical and expensive for an active agent. She glanced at herself the mirror, admiring the way it draped over her body.

What would he have thought of her wearing this? Would he have liked it, lusted after it? Would he have asked her to keep it on as he fucked her, or ripped it from her body in passion? Her knees shook as she held it in her hands.

She bit her lip, feeling her hands tremble. She knew what she needed to do. Walking to the bed, she sat down and lifted her cell phone from the nightstand. The number was familiar to her, and her fingers dialed it automatically.

She held her breath as her stomach fluttered wildly. The line rang twice before he picked up.

“Hey.” His voice was soft, and she smiled in spite of herself.

She licked her lips. “Hi,” she breathed into the phone.

There was a pause, and she heard the squeaky rustle from the leather of his couch. “It’s good to hear from you… I…,” he paused, sighing, “I miss you,” he finished softly, so quietly she almost missed it.

She twisted the red material in her hands, nodding as if he could see her. “I know…,” she breathed, looking into her lap. “I’m sorry, Mulder,” she said softly, “I’ve just needed some time.”

He sighed deeply on the other side of the line, “Yeah… Yeah, I know… Scully, I…”

“Can I come over?” she rushed, holding the negligee to her chest. There was a pause. Her heartbeat drummed so loudly in her ears, she wondered if he could hear it on the other side of the line.

She could practically hear him smiling on the other line. “Always.”

\---

He hung up the phone, smiling as he placed it back on the table. She was coming over. Scully. His chest swelled with a familiar ache. He’d missed her with a fierceness he couldn’t explain, just wanting to be near her, hold her, hear her voice. Fuck, he just wanted to be close enough to smell her perfume. He knew that once she allowed him to touch her, to love her, one night wouldn’t be enough. And he was right. He wanted it all. He wanted to sleep in her arms every night, wake up to her face every morning.

He showered, then nervously paced, awaiting her arrival. Wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans, he froze at the gentle rap on the door. His stomach tightened, and his breaths escaped through pursed lips, as he willed his nerves to dissipate.

His hand trembled as he reached for the door, and he chuckled, rolling his eyes at his body’s reaction. He felt like a nervous teenager again, and the Homecoming Queen had just asked him for a study date. He’s the luckiest bastard in the world.

He didn’t think his smile could get bigger, but as he opened the door and saw her standing before him, he realized he was wrong.

“Scully,” he breathed. A blush crept up her cheeks, and she smiled shyly. Her hair curled gently around her face, more reminiscent of their earlier years together rather than the brutal, sleek bob she had been sporting as of late. He stepped to the side, allowing her to pass, and the scent of lavender and vanilla followed in her wake. Bath oils, he noted.

“Can I take your jacket?” he said through a large smile, closing the door. “It’s ninety degrees out, Scully. Why are you…” He stopped suddenly as he faced her completely. She stood before him, holding her jacket with an out-stretched arm…wearing a red negligee.

A very sheer red negligee.

ONLY a very sheer red negligee.

His knees buckled, and he braced his hand against the door. Jesus, fuck. Was she trying to kill him?

\---

Her chest heaved with heavy breaths as her heart pounded violently. She wanted him. The tension was palpable, electricity sizzling up her arms as her small hairs stood on end.

The lunged for each other simultaneously, their mouths crushing together as their bodies melded in a fiery embrace. Their tongues swirled and teeth clashed as they wrapped their arms around each other. He lifted her from the floor, and carried her into his living room, sitting them both on the couch, where she continued the gentle assault of her lips on his neck. He groaned as her breasts pressed against his chest, and marveled at the softness of her skin as his hands skimmed up her back.

She slid her teeth along the artery in his neck, and he hissed, gripping her hips and pressing her firmly into his erection. His hands smoothed up her thighs, and she squirmed in his lap, her skin quivering under the pads of his fingers.

Fighting the last remaining bit of control he had, he gripped her shoulders, urging her to pause the tantalizing pattern her tongue was swirling against his neck. “Scully…,” he whispered painfully, “I think…, I think we should talk…”

She nipped at his earlobe, worrying it between her teeth. “I don’t want to talk,” was her husky whisper, and he bucked against her, feeling his last vestige of restraint slip away.

She moaned as she captured his lips between her own, letting her tongue linger, tasting him. God she missed this. Heat drenched her core, soaking her panties as she rocked herself over him, feeling the head of his erection press into her clit with each stroke.

He cupped her face, lifting her from his mouth. “I missed you,” he whispered, nuzzling her cheek with his nose. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, pulling her flush against him. He wanted to feel all of her. He needed it.

His hands roamed beneath the material of her lingerie, and he smiled against her skin, pulling back to see her face. “Is this new?” His voice was raw and raspy with arousal. Her clit surged with desire, and her eyes fluttered. She could come from his voice alone.

“Yes,” she smiled impishly, her eyes heavy and drowsy with lust. She pulled her lip between her teeth, watching his eyes rake over her ample expanse of cleavage. His fingers walked up the chiffon mesh bodice, toying just outside the lace confines of her tits. Her nipples rubbed against the scratchy lace with each heavy breath, and she pushed out her chest, desperate for his touch, her head fuzzy from his heated gaze. She felt herself drawn to it, craving it, the dark intensity of his eyes pulling her into him.

“Holly was supposed to wear it to the party,” she said softly, raking her fingernails under his shirt through the soft trail of hair below his navel. He nodded twice, lifting his hands to gently cup her breasts, and rolling his thumbs across her hardened nipples with a soft sigh. She moaned, dropping her chin as the thrilling, tingling sensation radiated through her body. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to her exposed neck, and she gasped, grinding against him.

“Well…,” he began, trailing soft kisses against her skin, “Thank the lord you didn’t, because I wouldn’t have been able to control myself enough to do our fucking jobs.” She smiled and captured his lips again, their tongues twisting and tangling.

He cupped the back of her head, moving his lips to kiss her jaw…, her neck…, her face…

“Scully…” His voice fluttered against her cheek, her name spoken in soft reverence. Her core tingled as his heated breath washed over her, and she moaned softly, rolling her hips against him, anxious to feel the ultimate connection of their bodies. His hands twisted the chiffon between his fingers, tugging at the thin material.

“Do you like it?” she rasped, her breath heavy against the top of his head. His hummed his approval into her chest, cupping her breasts as his tongue trailed down her sternum.

“Mmmhmm… Sexy…,” he murmured against the lace. He lifted his face, bringing his hands up to her shoulders to slowly pull the straps down. She shivered as his fingers trailed down her arms, the straps resting against her elbows. With each breath she took, her nipples moved higher and higher, pushing the gown further down her body, exposing her naked breasts to his view. Every hair on her body stood on end, and her eyes fluttered as his thumbs barely grazed the tips of her hardened nipples, teasing, taunting her, pushing her closer and closer to the inevitable. 

She gasped when his mouth closed around one, whimpering into his hair. “Oh god,” she cried, cupping his face, pushing her breast toward him as his his tongue swirled, sucking and pulling in response to her heady cries. She needed more. She wanted more. How could she have gone five days without this? How could she have gone seven YEARS?

He pulled back slightly, meeting her eyes as his tongue circled around her nipple. She watched him, her jaw slack. His saliva glistened off each dimpled sienna rose peak. Each pass sent a jolt of desire racing to her clit, and she ground her pussy into him. The friction of her panties against the rough material of his jeans sent delicious bursts of heat through her core, rubbing against her swollen flesh. She hissed, dropping her head back against her shoulders with a loud moan. 

“Fuck, Scully,” he groaned, peppering wet kisses against her chest as he worked his way to the other side. She didn’t want him to stop. She wanted it like THIS. She wanted all of him, his mouth around her tit, his hands urging her hips against his hard cock. She wanted it like it was before. Hot. Frenzied.

Before she could even think about it, the words were already out of her mouth. “Fuck me like Holly,” she breathed. He paused only momentarily, before resuming the gentle caress of his mouth.

“Stop, Scully,” he breathed into her chest, kissing a path up to her clavicle, dipping his tongue in and out of the hollow valley of her neck, tasting her perfume.

“Not Scully. *Holly*,” she whimpered pleadingly. She urged her hips faster against him.

Her heat burned into his cock, and he groaned unconsciously, unwilling to let her do this. “No,” he said firmly, stilling her hips. “Stop it.”

She halted immediately, color coursing up her cheeks the longer they sat in silence. He leaned back against the couch, holding her wrists in his lap.

The hair, the negligee… Suddenly the pieces of the puzzle were clicking together. Narrowing his eyes at her, he reached out and cupped her cheek. “Scully… What’s this all about? Why Holly? I don’t… I don’t understand.”

His flushed cheeks and swollen lips told the story of a man consumed by lust. His eyes told the story of a man in love – dark, heavy, tender. “Why can’t you just be *you*?”

She dropped her head, and brought her shaky hands to her face. Tears burned behind her eyes and embarrassment hung heavy in her throat. She climbed off his lap, wrapping her arms around herself in some semblance of modesty. He reached behind him and lifted the blanket from the back of the couch, draping it around her shoulders.

“Talk to me,” he said softly, coming to kneel on the floor before her. Placing his hands on either side of her legs, he looked at her face, watching it contort with a range of emotions. Fear, sadness, regret, love…  
When she didn’t respond, he took a deep breath, pausing before he let the words issue forth. “Why do you want to be Holly? What does she have that Dana Scully doesn’t?”

Heat prickled her face, and she gripped the blanket, pulling it around her shoulders. She sighed shakily, unable to meet his eyes. “Mulder… I…,” she said, shaking her head as she gazed at the ceiling. Maybe the answers she sought were written in its off-white paint. She dropped her chin, looking at him intently. “Who am I to you?”

He tilted his head to the side. “I… What?”

She licked her lips. “You know me by three names… I’m Scully…, I’m Dana, though rarely…, and I’m Holly. So, who am I to you?” Her question was serious, but he couldn’t miss the hint of annoyance in her voice. What was happening? A week ago, he was on top of her, behind her, inside of her. Her moans and gasps still tickled at the outer perimeter of his mind. A minute ago, he’d had his face buried between her tits…  
He blinked, realization dawning on him. “You think I only wanted to be with Holly.” It wasn’t a question.

Her eyebrow inched higher on her forehead, and her lips pursed as she bit the inside of her cheek.

“Well?” she asked, her voice thick. “You’ve only ever…,” she cleared her throat, “…been with Holly… How would you know…?”

He stopped her short, leaning forward. “Your name is Dana Katherine Scully,” he said, pausing while he moved to sit beside her. 

“Dana…,” he said in wistful reverence, and she felt her heart clench in her chest. She couldn’t count the amount of times she’s dreamed of him whispering her given name in that way, rasping it in her ear as he moves inside of her. Her cheeks flushed, and she breathed slowly through her mouth, her neck heated with renewed desire.

“Dana… Dana is…,” he chuckled uncomfortably, sitting back on the couch and turning toward her. She sat in the corner of the couch, her knees drawn up to her chest, the oversized blanket still wrapped around her shoulders. His eyes darkened as his gaze settled upon her intently. “Dana is the woman in you. She’s tender, and kind…, vulnerable even, but in a good way.”

Her breathing quickened, and her heartbeat hummed in her ears, muffling the sound of his voice. She was paralyzed, incapable of moving or uttering a word.

He reached out and lifted her hand from her knee, holding it between his. “You’re also *Agent* Scully. She is capable, strong, brilliant, a fierce defender of victims, and clearly a saint for dealing with this bat-shit crazy partner of hers.” They chuckled, and he brought her fingertips to his lips, pressing a kiss to the pads.

His smiled faltered, then his eyes grew serious. “But you’re also just…Scully,” he paused, looking down. “My Scully,” he whispered.

“*Your* Scully?” she squeaked, barely above a whisper, her eyes unable to look away from his face, her heart pounding deeply in her chest.

He nodded. Holding her hand against his chest, he leaned back, mirroring her position. “Yeah,” he smiled, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “The woman I know, the woman I’ve spent the last seven years with is ALL of them. The woman I’ve been in love with for… longer than I can remember. 

Her eyes filled with tears, and her heart throbbed with the truth of his words. She was all of those women. Not just Agent Scully, not just Dana, not just Holly.

Not even just Scully.

She is HIS Scully.

Clearly, he sees something in her that she, quite possibly, doesn’t see in herself.

She shook her head gently, her voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know, Mulder. Last week, as Holly, something came out in me that I’ve never realized existed… I did things that I’ve never…,” she broke away, sighing and squirming in her seat.

He blinked a couple of times. “Look at me, Scully.” Heady. Raspy. Her clit ached in Pavlovian response.

“You. Were. Amazing.” Each word was pointed, clipped.

She smiled disbelievingly, shaking her head.

He scooted closer, taking her face between his hands. “You. Were. Amazing.” He repeated. He vowed to tell her every day until she believed him, that he would never think less of her, that he wanted her, desired her.

“I’m not usually like that,” she said demurely, lifting her eyes to briefly catch his own.

His smiled beamed. “Neither am I. Shit, Scully…”

She chuckled at his words, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. His words calmed her, reassured her. He continued softly, “Do you remember what I said to you in the pool?” he asked. She bit her lip, replaying that evening in her mind.

Moments flashed before her, small snippets of memory bubbling to the surface… 

 

******"Mulder doesn’t want the first time he makes love to her be in a pool," he had whispered

"He wants to make love to her?" she’d asked, needing to be absolutely sure she was hearing him right.

"Every moment of every day.” ******

She nodded, feeling her belly buzz in excitement at the memory of his words. Her clit ached anew, and she hissed when his hand dropped, touching a bare spot on her thigh. Her skin burned with anticipation.  
“Scully,” he whispered, and she turned to him, tilting her chin only a moment before his lips brushed against her own. Softly, deftly, he tasted her, nuzzled her, letting their tongues twine together.

“Let me make love to you,” he whispered against her cheek, and she shuddered against him. He pressed his lips to her neck, and her pulse pounded softly against his chin. He could feel her excitement pouring from each quickening heartbeat.

“Let me show you, Scully… Just* you*…,” he paused, kissing her shoulder, “and *me*.”

His tongue swept against her bottom lip in a silky caress. Moving down her jaw, he nipped and sucked at the soft skin of her neck, feeling every quiver of her against him.

“Mulder,” she sighed into his shoulder, trembling beneath his mouth. His hands stroked her thighs, and he gripped the edges of the blanket. Pulling it apart, he moaned into her neck as his hands brushed over her breasts, her nipples tickling his palms while he dragged them down her body. 

Lifting his chin, he moved his lips to her ear. “Do you know what you do to me?”

She gasped, shuddering, her internal walls twitching as her arousal grew. She pulled her lip between her teeth. “Tell me,” she whispered against his shoulder. Moving her hand up his thigh, she stroked him over the thick denim of his jeans. 

“Jesus, Scully,” he seethed, and she gasped, gushing at the sound of his raspy voice.

He pressed her hand into his erection, curving her fingers around the shape of him. “Do you *feel* what you do to me?” he whispered hoarsely. She nodded into his neck, feeling him pulse beneath her palm. He jerked his hips. “Every day…mmmm… You have no idea how long…ungh,” he groaned as her hand moved over his cock, slowly stroking him, “How…, how many times…I’ve thought about you…*Fuck*…,” he growled.

Her hand was hot as she rubbed it over him, as his length slid between her fingers. He wove his hands through her hair, and she hissed with pleasure as he gripped the amber tresses forcefully between his fingers.  
“So many nights I wanted to call you,” he whispered, nipping at the curve of her jaw. ”Just to hear your voice.”

She whimpered, rolling her head as his teeth sunk into her neck. She’d probably have a mark the next morning. She didn’t care. Just don’t stop.

“Mulder,” she sighed. How many nights had she thought about the very same thing? How many lonely nights had she sat on her hands, staring at her phone, afraid to call him, afraid she’d wind up at his door with only one thing on her mind?

Without leaving her neck, he ran the tips of his fingers down her arm, pausing at the curve of her elbow. Anticipation radiated from her skin as his fingertips sat inches from her breast. Her nipples ached as she waited, the agony of his explorations slowly driving her insane.

He spoke slowly, gravelly. Each puff of hot air from his mouth tickled her ear, sending a jolt of desire to her center, tightening and swelling her core. It was terribly erotic—barely touching her, barely grazing her skin with his lips. Just the sound of his heady voice was enough to drench her, to drive her to the point of no return.

“Sometimes…, after I would hang up, I would imagine you showing up at my door,” he whispered into her ear.

Her voice trembled as she spoke. “What would I be wearing?”

She felt him smile against her skin, and his fingers resumed their tortured ascent back up her arm. Her nerves were on high alert as he brushed them up and down. Was the Scully of his fantasy wearing a trench coat with nothing underneath? Was she wearing a pencil skirt and thigh-highs, ready to straddle and fuck him? Just how did Mulder see her when he fantasized? What kind of woman was she to him?

“Mmmm,” he hummed against her shoulder, “It changed.”

His fingers danced around her shoulder and over her collarbone, dropping to the gentle swell of her breasts. She pushed her chest into his hand, lifting her torso in the hopes her nipples would brush against it. Please… She didn’t want to beg.

He wanted nothing more than to kiss her, ravage her, devour her. His cock strained through his jeans, and his hips jerked with each swipe of her hand. A bead of sweat dripped down the center of his chest. The sheer exertion of keeping his desire at bay was taking its toll, but he knew that if he kissed her, if he fully touched her, it would be over.

And he didn’t want it to be over.

He had barely started.

“Tell me. What did I wear?” she whispered breathlessly.

“Mmm,” he said, pulling her earlobe nimbly between his teeth. “Sometimes jeans, sometimes the suit you wore at work that day…,” he trailed off, dropping his fingers lower on her chest, dipping between her breasts.

“A suit?”

A suit had not even crossed her mind when she imagined his fantasy. He smiled against her, moving his face to the other side of her neck. Pleasure washed through her heated skin when his lips nipped and sucked at her, finding just…the…right…spot below her ear. She gasped as he discovered her neck, making mental notes as he mapped each zone for future reference.

“Your fantasy is…so simplistic, Mulder,” she said playfully against his cheek, pressing her lips to his temple. The salt of his sweat danced across her tongue, and she whimpered when his fingers trailed down her belly, her stomach fluttering beneath his touch. 

“My needs are simple,” he rasped, groaning. Her tongue stroked a path around his ear, delving inside, feeling his hands tense with each pass.

His fantasies might be simple, but he is still a man with needs. Growling low in his throat, he gripped her hips and pulled her over, positioning himself against the couch until she straddled him.

She smiled softly, “What needs are those?”

Cupping her face, his dark eyes bored into her. “You,” he answered simply. “My needs are simple: just you.” She twitched internally at his words. Her heart blossomed with love for him, and she shook her head, wondering whether anyone had ever looked this way at her before now. She stroked his cheek tenderly and kissed him.

Moaning at the contact, their tongues twined together as she rocked her hips against him, frantic to relieve the ache between her legs. She skimmed her nails down his chest and flicked over his nipples. His hips bucked against her, and she whimpered.

“So, your fantasy Scully wears jeans?” she whispered against his lips. “No, naked-under-the-trench-coat fantasies?” She smiled against his mouth.

His hands roamed up her body, settling against her ribs. His thumbs swept the delicate skin under her breasts, and she shivered, arching against him.

“No. Just you. Just Scully,” he breathed. His eyes were heavy as his gaze focused on her. He didn’t need a ridiculous fantasy—he didn’t want one either. He wanted her. He wanted Scully.

She kept her eyes on his as she reached for the button of his jeans. She wanted to feel him, taste him, but his hand stopped her. “Not here… The bed…,” he said softly, shaking his head. 

Leaning forward, she shushed him with her mouth, letting her tongue ease the reservations from his mind. His compliant lips assured her that he understood her message, and he whimpered when she pulled away. He was at her mercy, a slave to her every whim. Not that he was complaining.

He dropped his head back against the couch with a loud moan as she unzipped his jeans, freeing his painfully hard cock from its confines. Hoping to ease the ache, he wrapped his fingers around it and started to slowly stroke. Her jaw slackened and her eyes darkened, darting between his rigid erection and his face. Her clit throbbed, as she watched him touch himself, and she tingled at the sight of it.

“Tell me more of your fantasy.” She barely recognized her voice as it escaped her lips, so deep and husky. “What happens next?” She covered his hand with her own, matching his strokes. Her eyes were drawn to his face, aroused by the very sight of him, of what her touch did to him.

His eyes rolled back in his head, and he swallowed audibly. He gripped her hips as her body continued the slow, torturous motions against him. His cock stood hard between them as her hands worked over it.  
“Tell me,” she prompted again, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. He groaned. That damn lip, again.

She ground against him, feeling the wetness of her panties as she moved back and forth. Moaning into his mouth, she rubbed her clit against the underside of his cock with each stroke.  
He closed his eyes and sighed. “You come over one night…, after work… I don’t…ungh…remember why you come over…, but you’re here…”

“And…?” she breathed, lifting one hand from his cock to cup her breast, tweaking her nipple.

“And we sit next to each other, talking…laughing…” His chest heaved from the enticing rhythm of her hand. 

“About what?” she asked, more and more intrigued by his fantasy, still surprised that what he wants is so normal.

“About anything…,” he paused, and she watched a blush creep up his cheeks. “About life…, about the future…, our future… What you want…, what you need… ungh,” be broke off, groaning.

“Is this what you do when you’re thinking of me?” she whispered headily. Her dark, heavy eyes looked right into his soul.

The small smirk curving her lips told him she had all the information she needed.

Scooting forward, she slowed her hand, pressing against him as she slowly, gently rocked up and down, back and forth, rubbing her clit against his cock.

He looked to the place where their bodies were pressed together. “Fuck,” he seethed, grimacing in blissful agony. His hands gripped her hips, and he aided in her movements, watching the red lace scrape up his cock. The negligee draped around her waist, her breasts bare and swaying with her gentle motions. Her eyes were heavy and her cheeks pink, her lips red and swollen. The lace moved to the rhythm of her hips, scratching lusciously against his cock.

It was the hottest thing he had ever seen.

Her arousal bled through the lace, wetting his erection as she moved, and he pulled her face down to his lips. Her hips stilled momentarily as his tongue explored the inside of her mouth.

After a few moments, he pulled away slowly. “My fantasy is *this*, Scully,” he said, running his hands up and down her thighs, feeling them tremble beneath his fingers.

She opened her eyes and to look at him, their noses touching tip to tip.

“My fantasy has always been…just you. Just *you* as a woman.” He leaned forward, trailing kisses down her neck. She hummed in response. “My fantasy is *you*, letting me love you.” His hands slipped between them, cupping her breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingers. She shuddered, nuzzling his cheek with her nose. “Letting me touch you,” he whispered, and she moaned, grinding her clit into him.

“Mulder…,” she breathed, threading her fingers in his hair. 

“Letting me *see* you…, see the part of you that you normally keep hidden…,” he added breathlessly, bucking his hips as he rolled her nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

“Like Holly?” Her breath hitched against his neck, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her to his body, unwilling to let her detach.

“I think there’s a little part of Holly inside of you, inside of Dana Scully. YOU created Holly, Scully. She wasn’t created by the bureau. She wasn’t created by me. She was created by you. She IS you,” he whispered forcefully. “Don’t you see that? This…,” he said, gesturing between the two of them, “This is what I’ve wanted. Agent Scully, Dana Scully, Holly. All of you. ”

He cupped her face, looking deeply into her eyes. It was a look reminiscent of a time they’d stood in his hallway, when he’d begged her not to leave. So full of love and tenderness that it made her chest ache.  
“Scully, I don’t need elaborate fantasies, or expensive negligees,” he said, fingering the fabric. “Though this little number has definitely made me consider my opinion.” She smiled, ducking her chin. “I just want you.” A tear escaped down her cheek, and he thumbed it away.

He bit his lip, his eyes coursing over her. “I want the side of you that is timid and shy. I want the side of you that is naughty and likes to talk dirty,” he said with a wry smile and a small wink. She smiled, blushing from her forehead to her navel. “I want the woman who likes to make love, and I want the woman who likes to *fuck*.” She licked her lips, her belly quivering.

“We all have different parts of us– parts that don’t add up, that don’t make sense with the others.” He touched her cheek softly. “But it’s what makes you *you*. It’s the combination of all those parts that made me fall in love with you,” he finished, and she leaned down, pressing her lips to his. He held her tightly, their tongues darting, stroking, caressing.

She pulled away slowly, letting their lips linger.

“I want to make love to you…” he said breathlessly, running his hands down her back.

“You already are.” She had never felt more loved in all of her life.

He moved to stand, but she stopped him, pressing him back against the couch. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Here. Like this.”

He nodded wordlessly, lifting the hem of his shirt over his head, and pushing his jeans off his legs, kicking them to the floor.

She stood before him as he sat on the couch, pushing the remnants of her negligee from her hips. Tonight would be just them. Only them. He wrapped his hand around his turgid member, pumping it slowly as the lace and mesh dropped to the floor. His eyes darkened impossibly as she shimmied her hips, slowly and tantalizingly peeling the final vestige of Holly from her body. Inch by inch, it dropped lower, and his fist moved faster the longer he waited. She smiled impishly, pushing it down her thighs where it finally fell. The minute the sodden lace hit the floor, he reached for her, pulling her on top of him.

She wove her fingers through his hair, whimpering softly. His mouth was hot, soft, impossibly wet as he kissed every inch of her chest, and she hissed when his lips closed around her nipple, sucking it deeply into his mouth. His teeth worried and rolled her hardened peak, and his tongue soothed it, flicking it gently. A rush of desire flooded her, and she rocked into him, pleading with him silently to fill the ache. His tongue dragged from her breast, a wet trail glistening in the golden light of his living room.

She gasped as his erection pressed against her swollen flesh, and he groaned, sinking his teeth into her collarbone.

She gripped his jaw, and brought him up to her eager mouth, her tongue immediately swirling around his in a fervent attempt to communicate her needs. She needed him. She always has.

He pressed his hips to her, and he groaned as the sweet friction of their bodies stroked his cock. He pulled away from her mouth, and their eyes met. Sitting back, she resumed her earlier actions, pressing his cock to her clit as she rubbed the length of him. Precum settled at the head, and she swiped at it with her finger, sucking it between her lips.

“Jesus, fuck,” he moaned, his head dropping back. His cock glistened with her arousal, and he fought the urge to look down and watch her, knowing full-well that if he did, he would come right then and there. Leaning forward, she positioned herself above him.

“Look at me, Mulder,” she whispered. He opened his eyes just as she started to sink down, and they groaned in unison, both trembling with need.

“Scully,” he breathed, cupping the back of her head as his other hand urged her hips to move.

“It’s me,” she said, rocking her hips above him. “It’s me.” 

They locked their eyes on one another, breaking only when the desire was too intense to physically keep them open. He chanted her name in a breathy prayer, over and over again, as he moved inside of her, her walls gripping him with every stroke.

She tilted her hips, rubbing her clit against his coarse pubic hair. He met each of her strokes, pumping up into her, and she cried out, not caring who could hear her.

She dropped her head forward, bracing her arms on the back of the couch. Cupping the back of her neck, he brought their faces within millimeters of each other.

“Mulder,” she whimpered, and his speed increased. Her hips stilled, letting him take control as he thrust up into her with heated desire, each jolt hitting a spot inside of her that made her skin sizzle, her belly tighten.

Their breaths mingled, sweat sticking their bellies together as they moved. He held her head in a vice grip, and she scratched at the couch, digging her nails into the leather as she felt her orgasm approach.

Her pussy rippled around him, and he groaned thickly, pulling her face back and cupping it with both hands, never pausing the rapid pumping of his hips. “I want to see you.”

Her eyes fluttered open, glazed and unfocused, and her legs trembled with need.

“Mmmm…fuck yeah,” he growled, as her walls tightened around him. “That’s it… Come for me,” he breathed against her mouth.

“Mulder!” she gasped, whimpering as the electric burst of her orgasm rippled through her, collapsing her body against him. Three more thrusts and he was there with her, crying out her name as she clenched around him. Spilling his seed inside of her, he slowed his movements as his release coursed through his veins.

She rested her forehead against his, nuzzling his nose in a gentle caress. 

“Scully…” he breathed reverently.

She tenderly kissed his lips.

“Yeah… I’m here,” she whispered.

His chest heaved as he opened his eyes and looked up at her. “You’re here,” he repeated. She smiled softly, nuzzling his neck.

“For…the record…,” he said breathlessly, his voice still shaky, “What sort of G-man… would I be if… I didn’t have… at least *one* naked-under-the-trench-coat… fantasy?”

She smiled, shaking her head as she kissed him softly. “You can tell me about that another time.”

He wrapped his arms around her, smiling into her hair as he kissed her temple. Holly might have been flirtatious, sexually open and adventurous, but she didn’t hold a candle to the woman who currently lay on top of him. 

“Holly and Paul have nothing on us, Scully.” 

She lifted her head, arching an eyebrow in challenge. “Prove it,” she said, leaning her face down to capture his lips with her own. 

He had every intention of doing just that. 

 

\--- The End

 

 

Epilogue

Six months later…

She glanced at him across the office as she flicked off her computer monitor, licking her lips and rising to gather her belongings.

“You heading out?” he said, his eyes still glued to the file he was reading.

“Yeah, I’m meeting my old friend Nicole at 7:00. I was going to go home and change first.” She slipped her arms into her jacket, looking over at him. “You sure you don’t want to come with me?” she asked hopefully, and he glanced at her, shaking his head.

“No. You should be with your friend tonight. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine,” he said as leaned back in the chair, chewing on the end of a pencil. His glistening tongue fiddled with the tip and she felt her pulse quicken, very aware of what his tongue was capable of doing.

“Well,” she said, shaking her head of the titillating thoughts. “Don’t stay too long.”

He looked at her, pinching the bridge of his nose as he took off his glasses. “Yeah,” he winced, “I’m probably going to work for another couple of hours and then take off. The guys have a new program they’ve been trying to show me for awhile, but I can never seem to make the time.” He smiled knowingly at her, toying with the pencil between his fingers.

She bit the inside of her lip, blushing as she nodded in understanding. Six months had passed since their undercover assignment as Holly and Paul – since they became intimate as Mulder and Scully. Six months of spending their evenings together, eating, talking, and making love in every conceivable position, and some not-so-conceivable ones.

She walked to the door, pausing before she opened it. “I’ll probably be up late…, if you want to come over…, or something.”

He smiled. “Or something?”

Smiling, she walked through the door, heading towards the elevator. “Or something…,” she said softly to herself.

Her belly fluttered nervously on her drive home, her hands sweating as she gripped the steering wheel. Looking in her rearview mirror, she double-checked to make sure she wasn’t being followed, years of training making the action second-nature. Her skin crawled—she wasn’t used to being this deceptive—but the feeling of forbidden desire was stronger, enticing her, pulling her in the direction of the St. Regis Hotel.

Entering the upscale lobby, her heels rapped against the marble of the floors, and she looked over her shoulder cautiously, fearing exposure. Hitching her luggage on her shoulder, she registered and scribbled her assumed name on the dotted line, avoiding the gaze from the woman behind the counter.

Once in the hotel room and showered, she stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at her steam-fogged reflection. Water dripped down her shoulders, and she reached for another towel, noticing the slight tremble of her hands.

She bit her lip, fighting the smile that played in the corners of her mouth. Her belly quivered, and her skin tingled with anticipation. Lost in her own thoughts, she went about her routine, expertly blow-drying her hair into her familiar, sleek bob, applying her makeup skillfully. She picked up the long, black brush and added additional color and contour around her eyes. He’d told her he loved her eyes.

Breathing shakily, she exhaled slowly through pursed lips. “What am I doing?” she whispered to herself in the mirror.

She walked to the bed, unzipping her luggage and lifting the new lingerie from the inside. Deep, midnight purple; so dark the color could only be seen in certain light. The lights in her hotel room caught the faint glimmers of purple in the expensive lace, and she smiled. Nothing like new lingerie.

Carefully removing the tags, she slipped the dark purple thong up her legs, marveling at the softness of the silk against her skin. The little black dress she’d bought specifically for this evening still hung in the garment bag from the department store. Fearful of Mulder seeing it and asking too many questions, she’d hidden the purchase in the trunk of her car, cramming the Victoria Secret bag in beside it.

She zipped the dress from behind, running her hands down the expanse of her sides. Smirking, she idly wondered whether she’d be the one to unzip it tonight. Or would he assume those honors?

With a gentle swipe of perfume between her breasts and behind her knees, she was ready. Looking intently at herself in the mirror, she breathed deeply, placing an extra room key in her handbag. You never know who may need one…

\---

She sipped her martini, glancing around the bar as she sat at the small round table in the corner. Her smoky eyes, ample cleavage, and tight little dress did little to assuage anyone’s guess as to her occupation, but she didn’t care.

She swirled the alcohol around her tongue, lifting an olive to her mouth. Looking to the clock in the corner, she noted the time, nervously flattening her napkin in an attempt to calm her nerves. Had she only been here ten minutes? She suddenly questioned whether she could go through with it. Again.

A swipe of a hand against her back startled her, and she turned her head over her shoulder.

“Can I buy you a drink?” the gentleman asked. She smiled at him politely, licking her lips.

“That would be nice,” she said. Gesturing to the open seat next to her, she extended her hand. “Care to sit?”

He ordered their drinks with the bartender, and sat down in the empty seat. His dark eyes darted from her napkin to her face, and back again to the napkin she was twisting between her fingers.

“You seem nervous,” he noted, unbuttoning his suit coat.

She smiled shyly, shaking her head. “Yeah, I uh…,” she chuckled, sitting back in her seat, “I don’t… I’m not used to doing this.”

“Drinking?” He smiled at her, and she found herself smiling back, unable to deny his charm.

Feeling more at ease, she leaned forward and smiled. “Picking up men.”

“Ahhh,” he said, nodding his head, his gaze intent on her. He was taken by her, enthralled. She returned his look from upturned lashes, smiling coquettishly. “I’ve never seen you in here before,” he said, bringing his glass to his lips.

Her eyebrow lifted, and she swirled the stick in the clear liquid. “First time for everything, I guess.”

“I guess…,” he smiled, twisting his glass on the coaster. He paused, watching her intently. Her chest tingled, her belly fluttered. This was so unlike her…

He gestured to her hand. “No wedding ring indent… No ring for that matter… So, what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” he said, smiling. She blushed, biting her lip and ducking her head to avoid his wry smile.

“I uh….” She paused, scratching her nose, shaking her head gently. Could she define her relationship with Mulder? They weren’t married, but they spent every second together. They weren’t dating per se, but she’d been sleeping with him for the last six months. She said the only thing that she could. “It’s complicated.”

He nodded in understanding, noting her discomfort with the subject. Letting the amber scotch roll around his tongue, he put the glass down, and leaned forward. “So, does a drink get me your name?”

She almost choked on her sip. “My name?” She wiped her chin with the napkin, her eyes sparkling at him.

He nodded his head and she narrowed her eyes, feeling the hairs on her arms stand on end.

No turning back now.

“My name’s Holly. Yours?”

He lifted his glass, gesturing towards her in a mock toast. Before he brought it to his lips, he replied, “I’m Paul.”

Looking into his familiar hazel eyes, she smiled and said, “It’s nice to see you again...”

 

\----


End file.
